


An Ideal Timeline

by ruralfishingcat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Coming of Age, Do-Over, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fix-It, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Jealous Keith (Voltron), Jealous Lance (Voltron), M/M, Mind Meld, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, POV Keith (Voltron), POV Lance (Voltron), References to Depression, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Team Bonding, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-02-05 05:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 81,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12788016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruralfishingcat/pseuds/ruralfishingcat
Summary: Waking up back at the Garrison was both a blessing and a curse. Keith only hoped he could make the right choices this time around.**On hiatus as of July 6th. Busy with work and mental health issues. Will continue indefinitely**UPDATE Sep 4th: Still continuing indefinitely, unsure about ending





	1. Chapter 1

It was dark when Keith awoke, which in itself was dreadfully familiar, but he still immediately knew that something was wrong. He shot up in his bed, hands clenching and unclenching out of an instinctual need to tug off the restrictive sheets. He tore them off his lap, the heavy, wool blanket pooling on the ground with an audible thump as though personally offended by the rough treatment. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he swung his feet over the side of his bed and stalked to the other side of the room. He groped around blindly for his jacket, fingers only hitting wall. 

He frowned; he always left his jacket hanging for easy access in case of an emergency. The uneasy jolt of oddity returned with renewed vigor, a lurching sensation that started with relentless tremors in his chest and traveled all the way down to viciously prod his feet with pins and needles. He swallowed, his throat clogged with syrup-thick anxiety. His eyes darted back to his bed and he nearly lunged across the room, shoving his pillow aside and clutching his knife tightly; at least his weapon was still there. Familiarity bred assurance, and the knife seemed to be the only tangible evidence Keith was aware of as of yet.

He headed back for the door, preparing himself to seek out Kolivan and demand an explanation for the abnormal atmosphere. He pulled the knob toward him and came face to face with Shiro, who had his fist raised and in position to knock. 

Keith blinked. He was pretty sure that Shiro would have just called him if something was amiss rather than travel all the way out to the Blade of Marmora only to wait around outside Keith’s door. Either Shiro was feeling weirdly sentimental and wanted to tell Keith the news in person, or something was horribly wrong. The sickly constriction of his lungs led him to believe it was the latter. 

“You _are_ awake,” Shiro said, a relieved smile falling onto his face. “Usually you’d be at my room by now. I thought you slept in—and on today of all days.”

There were so many questions nearly spilling from the tip of Keith’s tongue, but only one succeeded in its escape: “Why are you wearing that?”

Shiro briefly glanced down as though he hadn’t remembered how he had dressed himself that morning. And maybe he hadn’t in his haste to meet the universe’s daily quota of confusing Keith. Instead of his usual armor, he donned his old Galaxy Garrison outfit: a sharp and grey uniform that stood out in a sea of white and orange cadets. Keith hadn’t seen it in a long, long time; he hadn’t realized Shiro even still _owned_ it after his capture and escape. “I know it’s a little different, but it’s what they wanted us to wear on the mission.”

“What mission? Where’s your armor?”

Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed, his gaze shifting from confusion to concern. Keith tried not to fidget, always frustrated when such an expression entered the conversation. It usually meant Shiro was about to lapse into some brotherly lecture thinly disguised as advice. “The Kerberos mission of course—why would I be wearing armor? Is everything okay, Keith?”

“I’m fine,” Keith snapped, swatting away Shiro’s concerned hand that was inching toward him. He glanced down at himself, quickly recognizing the garish orange and white outfit from the Garrison. That was one thing he certainly hadn’t missed following his dismissal. “Why am _I_ wearing this?”

Shiro pursed his lips. “Okay, bud. I think you need to stop by the infirmary.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Keith insisted and crossed his arms in an attempt to prove his healthy state. “When…when is the launch?”

“2 PM,” Shiro said slowly, as though he had just watched Keith’s head fling against concrete and was patiently waiting for his functioning to adjust back to normal. All things considered, it was high on the list of possibilities. His list was short; either he had an intensive concussion that would sooner or later actually register and cause him copious amounts of pain, or he was in some weird alternate universe set in the past. Slav had rambled about alternate universes enough times for Keith to have a basic understanding of them, except, well, actual proof of their existence. And when he pushed into the depths of his mind for the decaying memories, he vaguely recalled the day Shiro had left on the mission. Keith _had_ woken up at a grossly early—even for him—hour and stood outside Shiro’s door until a more reasonable hour. That hadn’t happened this morning, though, which was a point in favor of the whole alternate reality explanation. On the other hand, he had been thrust into this day randomly, and had not realized any reason to wake up earlier than normal.

“Right,” Keith said. “And…you’re going…?”

Shiro laughed a bit, relaxing his shoulders like Keith had just made a hilarious joke. “Yes, Keith. I’m going to attend the launch that I’m a part of. Let’s grab breakfast—maybe getting some food in you will wake you up a bit.”

“Sure,” Keith mumbled and trailed along after him, feeling so incredibly out of place. Normally he would push back more, demand answers and persist. He still wasn’t sure where he was, though, if this was some horrible nightmare, some food-goo induced coma, or the inevitable point in time in which Pidge either figured out the means of or the motivation for hacking into Keith’s brain. That last suggestion probably should have worried him more than it did, but it was Pidge, after all.

People were staring. That had been usual at the Garrison, though, especially whenever Shiro was present. And in Shiro’s inevitable absence, the emblematic torch had been unwillingly passed to Keith, forcing him to be the center of attention in hallways and during simulations. Keith instinctively drew his shoulders inward, trying to ignore the constant twittering of gossip that followed their movements. 

Shiro silently placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder and guided him toward the cafeteria. Keith was relieved that in spite of the ensuing insanity, Shiro’s sincere care for him hadn’t diminished. Regardless of what universe or dream he was in, Shiro’s presence was a staple that Keith didn’t think he could handle losing.

Keith glanced down at his feet as the onerous pressure of Shiro’s hand—still entirely flesh, but for how long?—weighed down on his conscience. He hated the idea that he was worrying Shiro, especially on what was such an important day to him. And it _was_ important, but also like to be a complete and utter disaster like before. Keith wasn’t sure what this world had in store for him, but considering how similar it was to his memories of the Garrison, there was a high chance of the Kerberos mission failing. Again.

The first time around Keith had been ecstatic about the mission, albeit slightly envious; the feeling quickly passed, though, as Shiro assured him that once he graduated, the two would be surely placed together on a mission. The ship had ‘crashed’ shortly after, and Keith had dropped out, crumbling their previously anticipated and detailed promise. Keith faintly remembered staying up the night before the mission, only stumbling out of Shiro’s room around 3 AM after hours of hushed, excited chatter and increasingly nonsensical plans. It was a wonder Keith had been awake enough to be up and skittish outside Shiro’s door by what had to be something in the realm of 5 AM. There was a good chance he hadn’t slept that night, though, too immersed and overindulged in the mission to locate sleep. 

This time, however, he was distraught. 

Shiro took his time eating breakfast, never once looking away from Keith’s own untouched food. “Not hungry?”

Keith shrugged. “Nerves.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one nervous?” Shiro grinned. “I’m the one going to space, after all.”

Any remaining semblance of Keith’s appetite immediately dissolved. He dropped his spoon—which he had been toying with, only using to push around his oatmeal in an illusion of eating. He looked up at Shiro, expression somber. Shiro’s smile fell upon sight. 

“You can’t go on this mission, Shiro,” Keith said firmly.

Shiro’s face nearly went through all the stages of grief within the span of a few seconds before he directed his patented sympathetic and pitying look at Keith. Keith gritted his teeth; he wanted to scrub that expression off Shiro’s face. He _knew_ he sounded ridiculous, and maybe even jealous considering how influential and impressive the mission was. 

“It’ll be okay,” Shiro said quietly, leaning in close as though the two were sharing a coveted secret. “I’ll be back before you know it, then we can do something fun just the two of us.”

Keith huffed, feeling increasingly like a rejected younger brother who was insistent on tagging alongside his older brother’s friends. If there was any chance that the mission could fail like it had previously, all the fault would be on him; he would be the reason for Shiro’s Galra arm and his PTSD, the cause of Pidge’s missing family. The realization was unsettling. From how Shiro had been acting, he hadn’t lived through it all before, or if he did he wasn’t remembering it. Everything was blurring together in Keith’s mind, each what-if fighting for the front seat in his concentration. But if there was only one thing in this weirdly familiar world—reality—universe?—that he would change, it would be not letting Shiro board the ship.

Shiro boarded the ship.

 

~

 

Keith’s teeth were clamped down on his lips so fiercely that he could taste the threads of coppery blood staining the edges of his molars. Shiro waved kindly to everyone before his gaze fell on Keith, worried. Keith attempted a smile, though the gesture fell short and he offered a straight-lipped expression at best. Thankfully, Shiro took it as some manifestation of acceptance, and smiled before climbing into the ship and leaving Keith. Again.

The following days were excruciating, each hour feeling three times as long as normal. He knew that a lack of immediate contact from a crew was neither particularly unusual nor concerning, but the circumstances unnerved him. He felt stuck in an unforgiving vortex of nebulous paths with no ability to swim. He channeled his frustration and trepidation into his training and simulations. The more approving feedback he received, the worse he felt. 

It wasn’t until a few months later before Keith was back in the classroom, facing the consequences of his inactivity. A newscast was detailing the events of the Kerberos mission and all the students were huddling in the room, fighter pilots, cargo pilots, engineers, and navigators alike. Most of his classmates talked amongst themselves, while Keith holed himself up in the desk nearest to the television, eyes locked onto the report.

“Look,” Lance said in a stage whisper, though Keith hardly knew if it was intentional or not; Lance certainly hadn’t been built with an off switch, so it wasn’t a far reach to assume that he didn’t know what whispering was, either. “Mullet’s all worried about his _boyfriend_.”

Keith sent him a glare, but he knew even without seeing his face that it was weak. He missed Lance—his Lance. While his Lance denied remembering their bonding moment, this Lance hadn’t even experienced the bonding moment. There wasn’t the slightest chance in him remembering something that honestly hadn’t occurred. Keith let his gaze fall upon Hunk, who sat next to Lance, more focused on the televised news than Lance’s antagonizing comments. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to deter him.

“I bet Shiro offered to go on the mission to escape Keith’s weird fanboying,” Lance continued haughtily, unfazed by the fact that literally no one in the room paid any heed to him. Maybe he was like some narcissistic parasite, Keith mused, able to feed off of attention he gifted himself in the absence of others. Keith rested his cheek on his hand, staring distantly at the window and wishing he could still see the ship. “I know I would.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but he took the bait if for no other reason than to grasp for some semblance of normality amidst the chaos of it all. He shifted in his seat to face Lance for the first time, feeling a pang of nostalgia. Lance’s face offered no respite, though, twisted into a cruel grin with no hints of playful teasing or friendly ribbing. Keith had never really paid attention during his prior time at the Garrison—he had been so focused on flying and pushing himself and _escaping_ —but Lance had apparently really, truly hated him if his current expression was anything to go off of. It hurt a bit.

It didn’t stop Keith from retorting though, his ability to banter with Lance as ingrained as his ability to fly and fight. “Funny how things are, though. You have to actually be a real pilot to go on missions.”

In his world, it might have gotten a snarky response, but there would have been a lingering fondness in Lance’s eyes, an understanding that the words held no actual merit on Lance’s abilities or Keith’s perception of him. Instead, Lance was scowling openly at him. 

“Lance, dude, it’s not worth it,” Hunk said, finally glancing over as though he had physically felt the heat radiating off of Lance’s stare.

Lance released a long suffering sigh. “Yeah, you’re right, Hunk. _He’s_ not worth it.”

Keith rolled his eyes again; classic Lance. And it may not have been worth it, but he wasn’t going to let Lance get the last word. Keith was a particular type of petty.

“I’m worth enough to be friends with Shiro,” he said, knowing which comment would cut the deepest. Maybe it was harsh, but he was still reeling from the reality of everything, and Lance’s animosity stung more than hepredicted. He missed being friends—were they friends, back in his world? “That reminds me, you know. He said something earlier about the two of us going on a mission when he gets back.” If he got back. “Guess you’ll have to sit that one out, cargo pilot.”

Lance leapt from his seat. “Say that to my face, Mullet!”

“I just did, you idiot!” Keith stood up as well, not wanting Lance to have any form of an upper hand. 

“Quiet!” Iverson yelled, and Keith startled; he wasn’t used to being scolded by Iverson beyond his dismissal. In the past, he had mainly ignored Lance’s comments and let the other boy simmer over Keith’s practiced nonchalance.Now, though, there was too much history for him to not feel impacted by the words. He sat down quietly.

Lance followed, albeit with more reluctance in his movements. He frowned at Keith before turning back to Hunk and complaining obnoxiously about not being able to actually practice anything that day.

“Dude, shut up,” Hunk said, finally cutting into Lance’s newest monologue. “Something’s happening!”

Keith’s eyes shot toward the television with an uneasy feeling.

“The Galaxy Garrison mission to the distant moon of Kerberos is missing, and all crew members are believed to be dead. The Galaxy Garrison has said the crash was presumably caused by pilot error. It is, indeed, a sad day for all of humanity.”

“What!”

“How does that even happen?”

“ _Shiro_ crashed?”

Indignant and baffled voices shouted out across the room, and a table was nearly knocked over in all the commotion. Keith dug his blunt nails into the palms of his hands and tried to stifle his anger, fear, and self-hatred. His desire to not rock the boat with Shiro had probably cost Pidge and Matt a father and Shiro an arm. He _knew_ he should have pushed harder, should have stood his ground.

“Settle down,” Iverson said, stature and tone so collected it was almost eerie. “Even the best of pilots have their accidents.”

Keith scoffed, drawing all eyes to him. And that was fine; an audience meant more people to consider his words and develop lingering doubt of the Garrison. “That’s no accident. Shiro never would have crashed. He made it to that moon—no other explanation.”

There was a brief, shocked silence before Lance—who else, really—broke it. 

“Yeah, sure,” Lance said, though his voice faltered from the news. It looked as though he was trying to convince himself of his words. His usually tan skin was considerably paler, his eyes disbelieving but desperate. “We all know you’re a huge conspiracy theorist. I bet you have a poster of Mothman above your bed that you kiss every night before you go to sleep.”

Keith frowned. Lance had seen his elaborate poster of clues and suspicions along with the others after they had rescued Shiro, but this Lance had no reason to know anything about that; it didn’t even exist yet. “How do you know that I’m a conspiracy theorist?”

Lance blinked dumbly twice before he fashioned his expression into a nasty glare. He turned swiftly away from Keith and muttered something to Hunk, who sent a curious glance toward Keith. Even as he focused his attention back to the front, he could practically feel the blazing look that Lance began sending him as soon as Keith’s eyes were elsewhere.

“If you two are finished,” Iverson said with a narrowed eye. “And I’ll ask you not to speak out like that again, Mister Kogane.”

Keith stared back at him, stare unwavering. He had already been kicked out once; he felt no fear from it happening again. “Understood, sir. I just ask that the Garrison stop lying to all of us.”

Even Lance didn’t have a snarky response to that. No one did.

“ _Thin ice_ , Mister Kogane,” Iverson snapped. The conversation was left at that. 

Keith huffed. He collected his bag and stalked out of the classroom, struggling to ignore the countless astonished stares that glued themselves to his back. 

Once inside his room, he threw his bag on his bed and kicked his lamp violently. He let out a frustrated yell. It felt so reminiscent of his memories that he stopped to wonder if everything _had_ been a weirdly realistic dream. Pursing his lips, he started packing his bag with other, non academic belongings. He wasn’t going to wait around for Shiro to be tortured. There wasn’t much he knew about Shiro’s time captured, but he knew it was spent on a Galra ship; he just had to find a way onto one. 

He swung his door open, took five strides to the left and was about to turn when he bumped into Lance.

Lance blinked. “Where the Hell are you going, Mullet?”

“Out,” Keith said shortly. He didn’t have time to waste on explaining his life story to Lance—not that the other boy would believe him, anyway. “Tell Iverson he…can shut his quiznak.”

Lance frowned. “What the cheese is a quiznak?”

“It’s not important,” Keith said and tried to shrug his way around Lance’s shoulders.

“Wait, wait, hold on a moment here,” Lance said. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. And as though he had been personally trained in how to be exceedingly annoying, he widened his stance to better block Keith. “Is this some kind of trick to get me in trouble?”

Keith released an exasperated noise and pushed Lance’s chest. “Jesus, Lance. Not _everything_ is about you, you know.”

“You…know my name?” Lance stumbled backwards easily, letting himself be moved by the shove. His eyes were wider now, almost dramatic enough to distract from the faint flush on his cheeks. 

“Uh,” Keith said. That was certainly not the reaction he had expected; when they had rescued Shiro the first time around, Lance had been belligerent that Keith hadn’t remembered his name. And now he was surprised that Keith did? He really didn’t understand Lance. He rubbed his neck; having a civil conversation with Lance brought back memories that made him uncomfortably miserable with the knowledge that said events didn’t technically exist anymore. He tried to use Lance’s confusion to his advantage and sneak past him, but even in his daze Lance was determined to hinder Keith’s movements. “Yeah. Hunk said it a few times earlier today.”

Lance deflated instantly. His next words were cold, calculated: “Right. Hunk. Well, Keith. In that case _you_ can shut your quiznak.”

Keith fought to keep the corners of his lips from turning up as he adjusted his bag on his back and stepped past Lance. “I don’t think you’re using that word correctly.” 

 

~

 

A few months passed with no success. Keith was beginning to feel dribbles of pressure and urgency flow through his veins. All the thoughts, feelings, and actions were too familiar to his memories that still haunted him. Once again, he was stuck in his shack, desperately searching for a means of getting to Shiro and _failing him_. A part of him hated himself for having been given another chance yet squandering it. He couldn’t count the number of times he had wished for such an opportunity in the past. And even with all his previous knowledge, he still had failed. As much as he loathed to admit it, he needed some help. Of course, there was the whole problem of him not really _having_ any options in that regard, especially since leaving the Garrison. Once a loner, always a loner, he supposed. 

Maybe…maybe he could enlist Blue’s help to reach space. It had crossed his mind from time to time to locate Blue, but a small, annoyingly sentimental part of him had been hoping to discover her with his team. It didn’t hold the same meaning alone. But, it was an option and that was better than nothing. 

He flew his ship out to the area where Blue had first been found, thankful that the location’s memory was still staunchly available to him. His conspiracy board was hanging proudly back in his house, and he faintly thought back to Lance and wondered what the boy would say about it was he to see it. He would probably boast, insisting that he had known all along. Maybe Lance _had_ known; maybe this Lance was still his Lance, but with a memory hazier than Keith’s. That was a dangerous thought process, though. Keith knew if he considered the idea then he would cling to it, searching for any sort of familiarity he could. 

Keith parked his ship and walked to the area where he and everyone else had previously fallen through the ground. He stood on it impatiently, tapping his foot as though it would be enough of a catalyst to force the ground below him to crumble. Nothing happened. He jumped, twice. The ground almost felt stronger, as though mocking him. Letting out a frustrated groan, he sat down and thought over his new options.

It was possible that one person didn’t weigh enough to collapse the floor—that was an easy fix. He had no qualms about pushing rocks onto the space or parking his ship onto it if need be. But it was also even _more_ likely that without the four other paladins, there would be no means of accessing Blue. He stood up and headed swiftly to the cave wall where the familiar markings sat. He placed a hand over one of the drawings, waiting and mentally pleading for it to begin glowing. Nothing again.

“Argh!” He shouted, the frustration echoing throughout the cave and flinging itself back at him. Stupid Lance—this was all his fault. Had Keith been the one to pilot the Blue Lion, he could have been flying off with it already. He didn’t like the idea of needing Lance’s help, but there seemed no other way. And maybe a part of him had always known that, still aware of the fact that the first time around the cave hadn’t lit up until Lance’s arrival, either. Lance had only been there out of a sense of obligation, though, a presence flanked by his desire to spend time with Hunk and Pidge and to meet Shiro. Keith was just. Well, circumstantial.

The flight back to his place was a solemn, quiet one. It wasn’t unusual for the desert to be quiet, but it seemed almost ominously so that afternoon in particular, as though the weather had caught onto his pessimistic mood and was mirroring it in sympathy. He laid on the couch, staring up at the unblemished ceiling and counting down the minutes until evening came; there was no point in storming the Garrison while all the students and faculty were still meandering the halls, awake and on alert. Shadows and quiet feet were his only advantages, and he intended on well employing them. 

He reached the Garrison right before evening, wanting to take note of which room Lance retired to so he wouldn’t be blindly guessing. He slipped inside the building while two faculty members were in the midst of an apparently engrossing conversation—at least interesting enough for them to drop their guard enough to allow Keith to sneak past. Lance’s room was a few corridors down from Keith’s old room, thankfully not far from the main entrance. Soon even the staff members were heading to bed, and Keith seized the opportunity. 

He knew Lance wouldn’t have locked his door—knew the boy was probably well acquainted with sneaking out late at night. At the very least, he had done so the night they found Shiro. Keith turned the knob and crept inside the room. As was the case on the Castle of Lions, Lance was sleeping deeply, headphones and eye mask snug, and the weird goop covering his face.

Keith stared at him briefly, mentally calculating his next move. Lance was innately loud, meaning he was likely to scream if Keith went for a simple shake. Keith sighed, placing a hand over Lance’s mouth and nudging his eye mask up to his forehead. Lance’s face scrunched up, but he slept on. Keith slipped the headphones off his ears and used his free hand to pinch Lance’s arm. 

Lance jolted awake, eyes snapping open in shock. They darted around rapidly before landing on Keith and widening almost comically. He tried to shout, but Keith’s hand muffled it well.

“Don’t shout,” Keith hissed in a whisper. “I’m going to remove my hand, okay?”

Lance blinked and nodded slowly. 

Keith pulled his hand back, wiping the remnants of the facial goo that had hitched a ride on his hand onto his pants; he’d clean them later. Almost immediately, Lance opened his mouth in position to scream. Keith’s hand shot out and only just stopped it. His eyes narrowed. “Hey! I just told you not to shout. You’re going to wake someone.”

Lance glared hotly at him, his eyes saying that yes, that was exactly his intention.

“You’ll just get in trouble for not locking your door,” Keith pointed out. “You know how strict Iverson is about that.”

Lance huffed, the sound almost entirely blocked by Keith’s hand. The warm breath tickled his skin, nearly causing him to yank his hand back in response to the confusion that simmered in his stomach. He swallowed it down stubbornly, not wanting his emotions to ruin the possibility of acquiring Blue. 

“I’m not above keeping my hand on your face for an indeterminate amount of time,” Keith said. “So you have to promise me that you won’t shout.”

Lance rolled his eyes and nodded reluctantly. Keith withdrew his hand again, watching Lance warily.

Lance swallowed and shot another glare his way. He sat up quickly, the blankets falling down to his lap and revealing sleek, blue pajamas. Some things never changed, Keith supposed, a faint smile fighting to surface. “What the Hell, Keith? I thought you were kicked out!”

“Technically I left,” Keith said. This time around.

“So then what are you doing here? _What are you doing in my room?_ ” Lance tugged the blankets closer to him as some sort of protection against Keith’s dismissal, as though it was a virus that could spread and result in Lance being kicked out as well. “How’d you even know which room was mine? Oh my _God_ , have you been stalking me?”

“I need your help,” Keith said bluntly; there was no point in dancing around the fact even with the knowledge of how irritating Lance’s response to the truth would be. He didn’t have time to hesitate, not anymore. “Come with me.”

Lance’s expression grew into one of haughty delight. “Oh, you need _my_ help?”

“That’s what I just said, yes.”

“No,” Lance said and dropped down onto his back, turning away from Keith and reaching for his fallen headphones. “Shove off, Mullet.”

Had Lance always been this difficult, or was this Lance in particular just special? Maybe it had just been so long since the two of them had completely disagreed. They still argued, of course, but they also considered the other’s perspective and sought out a compromise for the most part. Keith wrapped his hand around Lance’s closest arm and tugged violently, causing Lance to roll back into facing Keith. Lance looked at him with surprised eyes; his mouth dropped open slightly.

“It wasn’t a question,” Keith said.

“Yeah, and you’re not the boss of me,” Lance said, annoyed. “So just let me get back to sleep. You know how many wrinkles I’m going to have in the morning because of you?”

“Just hurry up,” Keith said, though he withdrew his hand as a peace offering. “Unless you’re too scared to sneak out. I guess I should have expected that, though.”

Bingo.

Lance narrowed his eyes and threw the blankets off of him. “I’m not scared of anything!”

An involuntary smile fell onto Keith’s face. “Then let’s go.”

 

~

 

Lance had complained the entire way back to the shack, his discussion topics ranging from Keith’s hair to the weather—which was considerably temperate for the late hour, a fact that was deliberately ignored by Lance. Keith had a growing suspicion that Lance was merely trying to get under his skin; it was working. Lance had also refused to sit anywhere near Keith on the ship, so Keith had pointedly made excessively sharp turns and risky jumps. By the time they arrived at Keith’s house, Lance looked rather sickly.

“Uh, where are we.” Lance stared at Keith’s house with utter disgust, as though it was the entrance to a dumpster rather than a home.

“My place,” Keith said. “I just need to grab my bag—didn’t want to carry any extra weight when I stopped by the Garrison.”

Lance followed Keith into the house despite a lack of invitation. His expression lit up once he saw Keith’s elaborate poster. He pointed at it with excitement. “I knew it! I _knew_ you were a conspiracy theorist.”

Keith granted him a half smile and headed over to it. “See that circle?”

“Uh, duh,” Lance said. “It’s in bright red and in the center of everything.”

“That’s where we’re headed.”

He threw a flashlight, his knife, and a map of the desert into his bag. The map wouldn’t show him a direct route to Blue, but it was worth having on the off chance that Keith forgot the way. Lance watched him curiously, sitting on the couch. For once, he had nothing to say. On the flight to the cavern, he scooted closer, hesitantly leaving his hands only inches away from Keith’s legs. Keith unconsciously smiled.

He parked a few dozen feet from the cave, not wanting his ship to fall down if Lance was able to coax Blue out. The two of them slid off the ship and started walking. Lance managed a whole forty seconds of silence—a record—before he lapsed into another rant.

“Okay, so we went from your place in the middle of nowhere,” Lance said. “To this place, also in the middle of nowhere. Your choice in location is phenomenal, Keith, really. You’re not like—oh quiznak. Is this some kind of Satanic sacrifice? I _knew_ I shouldn’t have trusted you and come out here all alone and at night when there’s a simulation tomorrow—”

“Relax,” Keith said, sparing him a quick glance and a smirk. “If I was into sacrifice I would have done it to you a long, long time ago.”

Lance crossed his arms. “Real reassuring.”

“Just follow me,” Keith said, turning on his flashlight. 

The sky was pitch black, having shifted from evening to night. The markings on the wall had glowed the last time Lance touched them, but now there was the matter of being able to even reach them in the dark. While the moon did its best to shine its light for them, it wasn’t quite enough. Lance tried to follow the light, making various shadow puppets on the ground. Keith tried to pretend he wasn’t watching closely, wondering if he had ever missed Lance creating such stories in the Castle of Lions, if this Lance was still his Lance. The thought made him queasy, though, the idea that he was walking alongside some stranger instead of his friend and teammate. He swallowed back the nausea, assuring himself that he and Lance would get there, sooner or later. Preferably sooner. 

He led Lance into the cave he had been in only hours prior. He shone his light purposefully near the marking that had caused the earth to crumble underneath their feet. 

Lance stared blankly at the wall and then turned back to Keith. “Did you seriously bring me out here to show me some cave drawings?”

Keith huffed. “No! Just—touch it.”

Lance furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s not going to like, bite my hand off, right?”

Keith rolled his eyes and placed his own hand against the cool cave wall. Last time, Lance had held no qualms about carelessly touching the carvings, consequences be damned, but apparently it mattered if it was Keith suggesting it. “It’s fine, see? No hand biting or anything.”

“Okay,” Lance said, lips pursed. Before Keith could pull his hand back, Lance covered it with his own.

Keith blinked, a sharp breath catching in his throat. Lance’s hand was warm—so incredibly warm that it hardly made sense—in the cold of the night. For a brief moment, he was sure he could feel the steady beat of Lance’s heart through their connected hands even with the thick leather of his gloves. The tips of Lance’s fingers were curled around his own to allow Lance to still touch the wall. “N—not on top of mine, stupid!”

He yanked his hand away and shifted his body to hide the blush on his face. He tried to slow his racing heart; he and Lance hadn’t touched for a long time, the era of shoulder bumps and high fives no longer present in this reality. It was a jarring feeling, knowing that Lance had sought out the contact, had even gone out of his way for it.

“Okay, jeez,” Lance said, hand still connected to the wall and seemingly unfazed at the physical contact. From what Keith knew about his family though, it was large and very affectionate, so maybe Keith was just putting too much weight into Lance’s actions. “So what now?”

“Just wait,” Keith urged. “It’ll… Turn blue or whatever.”

They stood there for a good thirty seconds, Lance staring impatiently at Keith and Keith maintaining eye contact with the wall, not able to even consider facing Lance yet. Eventually, Lance peeled his hand away from the wall and turned to Keith.

“Okay, what’s really going on here?”

Keith released an annoyed huff. Each failed idea bothered him more and more. His knowledge of the future was supposed to be an advantage, not just a reminder of what could be if _he_ _just tried harder_. “It was supposed to glow and stuff! And then the ground would fall and there’d be Blue and _quiznak_. Why didn’t it work? I brought you here and everything.”

Lance frowned, his eyes sparking with what Keith almost believed to be concern. He knew it couldn’t have been, though; this Lance was still his self-described rival. “Dude, how long have you been awake? Is this some sort of sleep-deprived breakdown you’re having?”

“I sleep just fine,” Keith snapped, pointedly not mentioning the fact that he hadn’t gotten more than an average of four hours of sleep per night since Shiro had been reported missing. “Maybe…of course it has to be _all_ of us. Can’t dare make it easy.”

“All of us?”

“We need Hunk,” Keith said. “And Pidge.”

Lance’s expression molded into one of surprise. “How do you know Pidge? He just enrolled a week ago. Did you know him before the Garrison?”

Keith fought back the urge to correct Lance; he didn’t think it was fair to Pidge to reveal her identity without her consent. “Something like that. I’m betting that Shiro has to be here, too.”

Lance’s face fell. “Oh. This is about Shiro.”

“Partially,” Keith said, and it was, but it was also about Lance and the Galra and Voltron. He didn’t know how to say that without sounding crazy, though—at least crazier than he already looked. “It’s what, early July? That means it won’t be for another few months…we don’t have that kind of time! We could be _leaps_ ahead of where we had been before. Do you know how many lives that could save?”

“Uh, no?”

“Hundreds,” Keith stressed. “Maybe thousands.”

“Uhh, okay,” Lance said. “I’m all for saving lives and whatnot. But you mind filling me in on what the Hell you’re talking about?”

Keith shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

Lance crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “I’m standing in a damp cave at 1 AM with my rival after having snuck out of the Galaxy Garrison. Don’t I get a little more credit than that?”

Keith sighed and glanced at his feet, debating over whether or not to say anything. His feelings of hurt were more powerful than his pride, though, and so he caved: “I’m not your rival, Lance.”

Lance faltered. “What?”

“I said, I’m not your rival,” Keith said with a scoff. “Are you deaf or something?”

“No!” Lance tightened his arms again. “And what are you talking about? Of course you are.”

Keith huffed out a bitter laugh. “Maybe to you. Look, we don’t have time for this. We need to gather Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro and come back here. I think it’s the only way Blue will let us in.”

“Shiro’s missing,” Lance pointed out. 

“For now,” Keith said. “In November he’ll…he’ll be here. I don’t know how to find him sooner than that, at least not without Blue.”

“What’s Blue? You keep talking about it.”

Keith smiled lightly, the previous annoyance of Lance being Blue’s pilot fading away into distant memories. “She’s yours.”

 

~

 

“Why are we leaving?” Lance was protesting almost violently, trying to struggle out of Keith’s iron grip on his arm. He dug his feet into the dirt, bringing a trail of dust along with him. “I want to see Blue! You said she was mine!”

“It’s late,” Keith stressed, but he was also angry, mostly at himself—which was nothing unusual, really. He just didn’t think he could deal with being angry around someone else. It meant holding back and restraining himself, keeping his voice at a reasonable level and not kicking his lamp or table. He didn’t have the energy to be socially polite for much longer. “You have to get back to the Garrison at some point, and we haven’t even found a way to get to her.”

“Well, let’s _find_ a way.”

Keith stopped and looked at him wearily. “Lance, not now, okay? It’s late.”

Lance crossed his arms, bringing Keith’s hand with him. It got tucked into one of Lance’s armpit along with Lance’s left hand. Keith blinked dumbly at him. “What, so you dragged me all the way out here to just give up?”

“It’s not that simple,” Keith said. “We can’t do it alone.”

Lance was quiet for a minute, dropping his hands. Keith’s hand fell, still firmly connected to Lance’s forearm. “So, what _is_ Blue?”

“A Lion,” Keith said softly.

“A—wait _what_!”

“Not, not a real lion,” Keith said. “She’s a robot, I guess? A mechanical lion. She’s a ship, part of Voltron.”

“Voltron?”

“It’s…what the five Lions form together.”

“Okay…” Lance’s expression was dazed. “Mechanical Lions. Hunk? If I’m talking in my sleep, can you pinch me real hard?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “You’re not asleep.”

“So what, we just have to wait until November and then Bam! Shiro shows up and we get my Lion?”

“I don’t know!” Keith ran a trembling hand through his hair. “Maybe come up with an idea for once!”

“Jesus,” Lance mumbled under his breath. “Okay, uh. Oh wait. You said—what did you say about the Lions belonging to each of us?”

“Technically, they choose us,” Keith said. He continued dragging Lance to his bike ship and forced him on. “Blue is yours, though.”

“Are we connected?”

Keith hummed and shifted to turn his head slightly; he wanted to see Lance’s expression, wanted to verify that he was still there even after physical contact was lost. “Yeah, in a way. It takes a while, but we’re all able to channel the spirit of our Lions, I suppose. It’s a bit like merging our minds together. We can’t exactly hear what they’re saying, but we can sense their emotions and see through their eyes. It’s tough, though. The Lions don’t just bond with anyone, even us. We have to earn their trust.”

Lance chewed on his lip and spared a quick look toward Keith. “So, could I maybe contact Blue? Like, if we’re in the cave do you think it’d be close enough for her to feel me?”

“I don’t know,” Keith said. And the idea wasn’t bad. He felt himself relax, calmed by the reminder that Lance was still apt with plans. “When we found her there was a forcefield, or a shield or whatever, around her. She didn’t wake up until it dissolved. You were able to when you touched it, though. If we could manage to wake her up without getting past the shield?”

“Okay,” Lance said. “That’s a start. So you’re sure that Blue would be able to locate Shiro?”

Keith hesitated. “Locate, no, but get to him, yes. He….he’s on a Galra ship, I know that much. I don’t know where he is or how he escapes, though. Someone helped him, which would be _us_ if we could get up there. Other than that, I only know that he’s on Earth at the very least by November 7th.”

Lance closed his eyes and leaned his head against Keith’s shoulder, his chest firm against Keith’s back. Keith felt a shiver run through his spine, one that he desperately held in. Lance sighed deeply, the resulting vibrations tickling Keith’s back. He gripped his bike’s handles tighter.

“Man, I can’t believe I’m even still here. Everything you’ve told me so far has sounded insane.”

“I know,” Keith said quietly. Sometimes, even he didn’t believe everything that had happened, and he apparently was ‘lucky’ enough to be experiencing it twice. “But…thank you for coming out here.”

Lance’s eyes snapped open. He looked at Keith, perplexed. “Uh.”

“I know you had no reason to,” Keith said.

“Yeah, well. You probably would have gotten yourself killed out here and then it would have been my fault.” 

“Sure,” Keith said with an uneasy grin. “Hold on.”

The ride back to his house was eerily quiet. Keith actually wished for once that Lance would say something stupid. He parked his bike ship quickly and strode into the house, Lance closely behind.

“So….” Lance sat down on the couch. “What now?”

“I don’t know,” Keith admitted. “Without Blue….”

“So what, we’re stuck? How do you even know that Voltron is a thing?”

“I…” Keith shifted away. “I’ve seen this before.”

“What, like deja vu?” Lance tapped his fingers along the table. “Everyone has that. You’re not special.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “No, not like that. I’ve _actually_ seen this before.”

“So, you’re crazy?”

Keith huffed and focused his attention on the poster. “We’re not getting anywhere.”

“I mean, your plan doesn’t make sense,” Lance said. “You want us to find ‘Blue’ in order to rescue Shiro, but to get ‘Blue’ we need Shiro?”

“I know!” Keith shouted. “I know, okay! I know the plan doesn’t make sense, I know _none_ of this makes sense, but I’m trying to find a way to speed things up. Do you know how difficult this is for me?”

“Okay, sheesh.” Lance crossed his arms. “You don’t have to yell. I’m here to help, aren’t I?”

Keith sighed, relaxing his shoulders. He took a seat next to Lance. “Yeah, I. Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Lance said. “I always knew you were a weirdo.”

“Thanks,” Keith said dryly. “I…should get you back to the Garrison. It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” Lance said quietly. “Just wish I could go back with Blue.”

“Yeah,” Keith said. He let out a weak laugh at the mental image of Lance flying Blue straight into the Garrison, tearing down a wall or two. “Trust me, I know what you mean. I miss Red like crazy—and he’s not even mine anymore…”

Lance furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean he’s not yours anymore?”

“I…nothing,” Keith said. Lance had already accepted enough of the craziness for one day; Keith didn’t think he would respond well to Keith insisting that he had lived through everything before, had seen all the death and mayhem and pain and was still actively searching for it. He felt more than a bit responsible, as though he was even letting Lance down by not having accomplished more, was unintentionally but assuredly setting Lance up to have to go through torture. “Let’s get you back.”

“Yeah, okay.”

The ride back to the Garrison was quiet, too. Keith wished he was anywhere but there. Lance’s bony fingers dug into his ribs, painting his pale skin with red finger presses. Keith wished he would hold tighter.

Fortunately, no one was awake at the late, almost early hour. The two stood awkwardly inside Lance’s room.

“So,” Lance said and rubbed his neck.

“Yeah,” Keith said, because he knew. Something between them had changed irrevocably, had established a thin thread that united their hopes and dreams and miseries. Even if nothing else in the timeline changed, this night in particular would be remembered. Keith vowed to do everything in his power to get Blue to Lance, the other Lions to Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro. The thought that he didn’t have to do it alone was terrifying, but also soothing. “Uhm. Here.”

He took out his phone and handed it to Lance. “If you need to contact me. Sneaking into the Garrison is fun and all…”

“Yeah,” Lance said quickly. He tapped in his number, pausing twice to glance up at Keith as though he would disappear at any second. “Thanks.”

Keith shrugged and pocketed his phone. “Thanks for not screaming the third time.”

“Heh,” Lance said. He shifted on his feet. “I should get to bed. Flight simulator bright and early tomorrow.”

“Right. Uh. Good luck.”

Lance pulled out his finger guns. “Won’t need it. But uh, thanks. See you?”

“Yeah,” Keith said with a nod. God, if all the interactions between him and Lance were bound to be this awkward, he was planning on never talking to the boy again. It had seemed like half of their conversation had been ‘yeahs’, ’uhs’, and ‘ums’. “See you.”

And he was alone again. As usual.


	2. Chapter 2

His couch felt empty; it was the kind of empty that came in waves and settled deep, etching its poisonous outline into the already marred crevices of his mind that he had tried so desperately to plaster over with years of practiced apathy. It persisted, as it so often did, festering until his bones felt so heavy that he was afraid if he so much as blinked he would open his eyes to find himself underwater. Keith stared blankly at the ceiling and waited for something—he wasn’t quite sure what. Maybe Shiro’s arrival, Lance’s text, the faint, intoxicating pull he had once felt from Blue. Lance _had_ texted him, a single poop emoticon, nothing more and no context given. It had been a few weeks since then with nothing more than radio silence, and Keith wasn’t sure what to make of it. He had told Lance the number was to contact him, but he wasn’t really sure if he had a reason to be contacting Lance first. 

It was tough, though, feeling useless. His mind was constantly flooded with thoughts of the kinds of devastating torture Shiro had to be enduring by now. He clenched his fists and rolled over on his side, eyeing his poster wearily. It was a valuable resource, but at the moment there was nothing in his life he hated more. He had stopped by the area where Blue was a few more times since he and Lance had gone, but with no success. He wasn’t sure how else to go about things, with no means of getting to space or acquiring any of the Lions. Bitterly, he wondered what the point of throwing him into the past was when there wasn’t anything he could do to change it. 

He had Lance’s number now, but that wasn’t the sort of thing he was willing to relive pain and destruction for. He at the very least still had his knowledge of how the Galra would attack, even if his memories ebbed and waned the longer he spent in the past.

Was it really the past, though? It had been months, maybe a good half a year, and he hadn’t been returned to his time. Maybe he was just stuck here, with no hope of ever getting back to that point in his life without living through it again. A part of him almost wanted that, if only to assure that there was no weird future where Keith had disappeared and disrupted Voltron.

Though…he wasn’t really a proper Paladin anymore, so maybe it was okay? Maybe it was why he had been the one to remember everything; he was expendable, a dime a dozen. His absence was no more than a fleeting hindrance in the overall importance of Voltron, perhaps even a blessing that assured Lance would keep a Lion.

His phone buzzed, rattling the whole table with it and collapsing his train of thought into wispy clouds of ambiguity. Keith snatched the distraction up greedily. 

 

**(18:06) u awake?**

**_(18:07) Lance, it’s 6 PM._ **

**(18:07) so that’s a yes…?**

**_(18:08) Did you need something or are you just being annoying._ **

**_(18:08) Aren’t you supposed to be at dinner?_ **

**(18:09) omg slow down how do u type so fast**

**(18:10) and i skipped**

**(18:10) the food sucks anyway**

**(18:11) so were u able to get my lion for me?**

**_(18:11) I think I would have told you by now if I had._ **

**(18:12) :/**

**_(18:13) What is that._ **

**(18:13) ? u mean :/? it’s a face lol**

**(18:14) how tf do u not know that**

**_(18:15) What’s ‘tf’?_ **

**(18:16) WOOOOOW keith**

**(18:17) i can’t believe ppl looked up to u at the garrison when ur such a nerd**

**_(18:17) Whatever. Did you actually need something possible?_ **

**(18:18) come pick me up**

**_(18:19) Excuse me? I’m not a taxi service._ **

**(18:19) chill dude. i just want to try connecting with blu like we talked about**

**_(18:20) Fine. Don’t get caught sneaking out._ **

**(18:21) lol don’t worry i’m a natural ;)**

**_(18:22) No winky faces_.**

**(18:22) ;(**

 

Keith rolled his eyes and pocketed his phone, jumping to his feet. He had a growing hunch that Lance wouldn’t be able to connect to Blue without all five of them present, but he was willing to test the theory if for nothing else than curiosity and a desire to see Lance’s reaction when he failed. He was also tired of being alone with his mind. 

He parked a good distance away from the Garrison, not wanting to push his luck. It was too early for the guards to be asleep like last time, which meant Lance was going to have to find a way to sneak past them. It wasn’t that Keith didn’t have faith in him to do so, but actually, yeah he didn’t. 

 

**_(18:38) I’m outside._ **

**(18:39) be right there!!!**

 

Keith clutched his phone tighter. Keith knew Lance loved Blue—it was an indisputable fact. But he still felt a hitch in his breath at the excitement that oozed from Lance’s text, the needless extra exclamation marks. He was glad Lance didn’t think him to be completely insane considering the lack of visible or tangible evidence. Keith hadn’t thought about it in depth, but it was kind of Lance to believe him, incredibly so. Were it Lance coming to him with theories of flying Lions, he probably would have slammed the door in the other boy’s face within the first sentence. And he was saying that as someone who thrived on conspiracy theories. There was curiously possible, and then there was utterly inane, Voltron unquestionably being the latter.

He heard Lance before he saw him, a common theme in their friendship—was it even friendship? He hoped, he really, really hoped he had left his reality with Lance thinking they were friends. The boy’s voice trailed and echoed into the night sky, bathing the quiet desert in deep excitement and racing nerves. Keith couldn’t make out what he was saying—was wondering _why_ he was even talking in the first place—until he was close enough that Keith realized he wasn’t alone. Hunk was reluctantly walking beside Lance, only half listening to the remarkably one-sided conversation as he made a point to glance behind him every few seconds to check for guards.

Lance offered Keith a wide grin. “‘Sup, taxi driver.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Shut up. Just get on the bike. Hi, Hunk.”

Hunk was staring at him, eyes dark and searching. Keith felt a bristle of intimidation at the level of scrutiny that a mere hello apparently warranted. “Wow. I thought Lance was lying when he said you’d be waiting for us.”

“Where’s your faith in me, buddy?” Lance hopped on the bike, scooting close to Keith to fit into the actual seat and patting behind him for Hunk. Hunk stared back, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. 

“You want me to sit on that?” Hunk shifted on his feet. “Yeah, no. It looks like there’s only one actual seat, and it’s more than occupied.”

“You’ll be fine,” Keith said. “Just get on the back; I’ll go slow.”

He went relatively slow.

“Oh man, oh man,” Hunk said as they flew through the air. “Where are we going?”

“I told you! We’re going to get my Lion!”

“Maybe,” Keith said. 

“Yeah, yeah, party pooper,” Lance said with a sigh. He wasn’t holding onto Keith this time, and Keith pretended that it didn’t bother him. “Maybe Blue hasn’t opened up because she doesn’t want to deal with your negativity, Mullet.”

“I’m sure that’s why,” Keith said dryly. “How you holding up, Hunk?”

“I think I’m going to puke.”

“Okay, well, aim it the other way!” Lance said hastily. 

“We’re almost there,” Keith promised; he could see the cave’s entrance.

He parked his bike as carefully as he could, trying to be kind to Hunk’s stomach. He led the two back into the cave he had been in so many times by now, hope still eternally brewing inside him.

“This…is pretty cool,” Hunk admitted. “How old do you think these drawings are?”

“At least ten thousand years,” Keith said, because that was as much as he knew; maybe he should have paid better attention when Coran was giving his lectures on Altean history. He had never thought it would come in handy, though. How was he supposed to guess his reality would be shattered or actually just a detailed dream or some other ridiculous but true explanation? 

“Oh, man!” Lance said. “That’s like, one thousand plus ten!”

“That’s times ten,” Keith said.

Lance narrowed his eyes. “Whatever, dropout.”

And Keith laughed—he couldn’t help it. Lance furrowed his brow, still looking displeased. Hunk tore his eyes away from the cave wall to stare at him hesitantly. 

“Ooookay,’ Hunk said. “So we’re staring at cave drawings in the middle of nowhere and Keith just laughed. Is this some sort of simulation or test?”

Keith crossed his arms, donning a scowl. “I laugh.”

“Yeah, maybe at people getting murdered,” Lance said with a snort. “Hunk, buddy, this is where Blue is. We just have to find a way to get to her.”

“And you need me for this?”

“Sort of,” Keith said. “We really should have Pidge and Shiro here, too.”

Hunk blinked before letting out a long breath. He turned to Lance. “Ooooh. This is about the Shiro thing. Should we like—we shouldn’t be encouraging him, right? I mean, there are healthy coping mechanisms, and then there’s…whatever this is.”

“I can hear you,” Keith snapped. “And this isn’t some coping mechanism. Lance—touch the wall.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Lance touched the wall. “For the record, I’m doing this of my own volition with nooutsider influence whatsoever.”

Keith sighed.

Lance shut his eyes and leaned his forehead against the wall, mumbling something under his breath. Keith watched him carefully, hoping that Lance’s attempt at communication would awaken something in Blue.

“Uh, Lance? You okay there? You look constipated.”

“Aww, man,” Lance said and dropped his hand. He took a step backwards and glared weakly at the wall. “It’s still not working.”

Keith pursed his lips. “That’s it, then; we need everyone here. If only your Lion didn’t have to be as stubborn as you, Lance.”

“Hey! I’m not stubborn, I’m _complex_.”

“This is so weird,” Hunk muttered. He trailed his fingers across some of the cave drawings. “So, what. These tell the story about the Lions?”

Keith spared a look toward Lance. “How much did you tell him?”

Lance shrugged. “About as much as you told me. At least whatever I remembered.”

Keith nodded and turned to Hunk. “So there’s this thing called Voltron…”

 

~

 

The days continued, still long and empty. Keith had known the world would continue turning in Shiro’s absence—had even experienced it once, twice, before—but it still felt wrong. Keith regularly made treks to the cave which occupied Blue, sometimes alone, sometimes with Lance and Hunk. Lance told him that he and Hunk had tried to urge Pidge along, but she had dismissed them quickly and frigidly. Keith had figured that would be the case, though, her mind narrowed in on finding out information about the Kerberos mission. 

It was lonely. Keith hadn’t realized it at the time having been so immersed in the war and his role in it, but he had become highly accustomed to being surrounded by others throughout the day. Even with the Blade of Marmora, other soldiers were packed in the base. His shack suddenly felt so terribly desolate. 

The nights grew longer as the Earth shifted into fall and eventually winter. Wind picked up and rattled the walls of his house, whistling a tune Keith didn’t want to hear. The temperatures dropped and Keith found himself staying inside more, wanting to venture out to obtain Blue but not finding the same strong desire as before. He felt a bit defeated though he refused to acknowledge it. He played with his phone, turning it over in his hands and wondering if it was worth texting Lance. He had been surprisingly and fortunately willing to sneak out, always eager to ramble about Blue and how incredible finding her was going to be. This time Keith didn’t want to go searching for Blue, though; he wanted a friend. He just couldn’t bring himself to admit it, to add a pinch of tangibility into his growing loneliness. 

So he stayed holed up alone until November rolled around, its entrance like a slap to the face. He counted down the days, the hours, the minutes, until the 7th. He found himself pacing uneasily across the dirtied and frail floorboards, fiddling with his phone just to have something to do with his hands, and taking apart and refastening portions of his bike ship to pass time. He hoped above all else that he hadn’t done anything to irrevocably wreck the timeline. It would be easier once they found Shiro—he was sure of it.

By the time evening rolled around, he had sent a reminder text to Lance, not wanting to risk the chance of him and Hunk not leaving the base. Lance hadn’t replied, but Keith was sure he had seen it. He had thought about offering to pick them up, but Pidge was still dancing around Lance and Hunk’s offer to bond, always successfully evasive in the most annoying manners. It would be smarter if he didn’t try to alter the night any more than he had already.

He had set up the explosives so long ago that he had to double check that they were still there, but they were. His heart raced as he set them off, parking his bike ship half haphazardly and jumping out. He hoped in the deepest trenches of his very being that there were three sets of eyes watching him do so. 

It was almost comical fighting the staff. He knew the exact movements that would knock them out precisely, and he felt like a video game character resetting at a save point with all the prior knowledge thrashing around his brain with annoyance over having to repeat his steps. 

Seeing Shiro again hurt, both in a good way and a bad way. He turned Shiro’s chin toward him, needing to make sure that the man was truly there. He felt a rush of relief; even if he hadn’t been able to find Shiro sooner, he was here now. As he had done so previously, Keith cut the straps of the restraints and heaved Shiro up to an almost standing position. He shuffled Shiro onto his shoulder and wrapped an arm around him, balancing him carefully. Within seconds he heard the sound of fast footsteps and tried to fight back a smile. 

Lance, Hunk, and Pidge ran in, all of their eyes widening at the scene.

“I can’t believe it’s really him,” Lance murmured. His shock was quick to wear off, though, and he jumped over to help hold up Shiro. “Don’t think I’m going to let you save Shiro all by yourself, Mullet!”

Keith steadied his expression. “Who’re you?”

“ _Ha ha._ ”

“It’s about time,” Keith said, shifting to decrease some of the dead weight on his shoulder. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

Lance scoffed. “Pshh, as if I’d miss this and let you take all the credit.”

The five of them quickly headed toward his ship which he and Lance positioned Shiro onto.

“Is this…thing going to be big enough for all of us?” Pidge asked.

“No,” Keith said as he started the engine and flew off.

“Why am _I_ holding this guy?”

“Sorry, Pidge,” Lance said. He finished handing Shiro to her and slid into his familiar position right behind Keith in the driver’s seat, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist and pressing in close. He rested his chin on Keith’s shoulder, the sharp point digging into his muscle. Keith only narrowly suppressed his heavy urge to lean back against Lance’s warm chest. The contact was such an unexpected but welcomed sensation, especially after the loneliness that regularly pestered him.

“Hey, we did all fit,” Hunk said.

“You wanna make this thing go any faster?”

Keith shot a quick glance behind him. “We could toss out some nonessential weight.”

“Oh right!” Lance said. There was a pause and he pinched Keith’s waist. “Okay, so that was an insult. I get it. Jerk.”

“Hunk, lean left!” 

The movements were slick, confident, and practiced. He maneuvered his way through the hills, following a familiar track as he evaded the Garrison’s cars. 

“Hunk, lean right!”

He heard a panicked shout from Hunk pointing out the approaching cliff. He sped up, careening off of it while the others screamed.

“What are you doing!” Lance shouted. He squeezed Keith’s waist so tight that there were likely going to be bruises by morning. “You’re going to get us all killed!”

“Shut up and trust me!”

Everything felt okay for a moment.

Everything felt weird at his house. He stood off to the corner awkwardly, hugging the wall next to his poster as Shiro introduced himself to everyone. There was something eerie about watching the scene unfold exactly as it had before. Keith felt like he was on the outside of a one way mirror, stuck observing an inflexible sequence. It was as though he was hardly there at all. He crossed his arms tighter, silently urging the others to hurry up so they could make their way to Blue. 

“Wait a minute,” Lance said and his eyes shone with exhilaration. “We’re all here! We can find Blue now!”

“Blue?” Shiro frowned.

“Oooh, right,” Hunk said. “Your Lion thing! And Keith’s mental breakdown.”

“It wasn’t a breakdown!” Keith scowled, still snappy from his feelings of unease and exclusion that knew best how to manifest themselves into a defensive resentment. “But yes, it should work now. Let’s not waste any more time here.”

The trek over was quiet. Everyone seemed on edge, which Keith felt partially to blame for with his outburst. Things were going to be okay, though; they had to be.

“What are these?” Shiro asked as they entered the cave.

“These are the Lion carvings I was talking about,” Keith said, his gaze flickering over to Lance who was headed back to his usual spot in front of one in particular. “They’re everywhere around here.”

Lance placed his hands on his hips and stared intently at the marking, finally placing a hand on it. It lit up, its iridescent glow bleeding color into the other drawings and lighting up the darkened cave. “Whoa!”

Keith bit his lip in a whirlwind of excitement and nervousness.

“Oh my God, Keith wasn’t crazy!” Hunk said. “At least not about this.”

Keith grinned and braced his feet. “Hold on everybody!”

The ground beneath them collapsed, giving way to a current of water that carried them to the lower level. Keith landed with a groan, wincing slightly. Even knowing it was coming, it still hurt. 

Lance made a strangled, interested sound.

“Blue,” he whispered in awe. “My girl.”

“Is this it?” Pidge asked hesitantly. “Is this Voltron?”

“It has to be…” Shiro said.

“It’s only part of Voltron,” Keith said. He started toward the Blue Lion, knowing Lance would be following right behind him.

“There’s a force field here or something,” Lance said, only inches behind him as predicted. “Maybe we have to knock and it’ll open up?”

He did exactly that and the shield disintegrated, the ground lighting up and trembling. Keith felt his vision flicker as images of Voltron flooded his mind. He found himself smiling, the weight of his worries lessening gradually.

Lance’s voice was weak: “Uh, did everyone just see that?”

“Voltron’s a robot! Voltron is a huge, huge awesome robot!” Hunk closed his eyes in bliss before shooting a guilty look toward Keith. “Sorry for doubting you.”

Pidge spared a glance at Keith. “And this is only one part of it, like you said. Do you know where the rest of them are?”

Keith hesitated. “Not…exactly.”

“This is what they're looking for,” Shiro noted, his eyes hardened over with concern.

Blue leaned down and opened her mouth, extending a ramp.

Lance blinked, fastened a cocky grin on his face and strolled in as though he owned the place. Keith supposed he did, in a roundabout way. Lance sat down in the pilot’s seat and smiled. “Here we go. Ooof!”

Keith snorted as the rest of them trailed after. 

“All right!” Lance’s eyes followed the screen that lit up in front of him. “Very nice!”

“Okay guys, I—I feel the need to point out, just so we’re all, you know, aware. We are in some kind of futuristic, alien, cat head right now.” Keith felt a fondness erupt from his chest at Hunk’s words; he had missed him, had missed all of them. His heart clenched at the thought that they were finally back together, a reminder that Keith was no longer weathering the storm alone.

Lance jolted and looked around Blue. “Whoa! Did you guys hear that?”

“Hear what?” Keith still wasn’t sure exactly what it was that Lance had heard the first time around, though he figured he wasn’t going to get an answer this time, either. 

“I think it’s talking to me,” Lance said, still vague as ever. Keith would get it out of him one day. “Hmmm. Uh…Let’s see.” He pressed a few buttons and Blue let out a fierce roar. “Okay! Got it. Now let’s try this.”

“Slowly, Lance!” Keith tried to advise.

His warning went unheeded as they burst unceremoniously through the rock formation and shot out into the sky. The others started screaming, everyone gripping urgently for some sort of stability.

“What. Did I. Just say!” Keith bit out, curling his fingers tightly around Lance’s shoulder, feeling his sharp collarbones. They flew around for a bit more before Lance was able to guide Blue to the ground.

“Isn’t this awesome!”

“Make it stop, make it stop!” Hunk pleaded, turning green.

“I’m not making it do anything, buddy! It’s like it initiated auto pilot or something!” He paused and glanced at the screen, mood sobering. “It says there’s an alien ship approaching Earth. I think we’re supposed to stop it.”

“What did it say, exactly?” Pidge asked, shooting him a suspicious, pointed look.

“Well, it didn’t exactly _say_ anything. More like it’s feeding images and ideas into my mind. Man, I sound as crazy now as Keith does normally.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “Need I remind you who located your Lion in the first place?”

Hunk jumped in: “Well, if the Lion is what they’re after, we could just, I don’t know, hand it over? Maybe they’ll accept it and just fly off. Nothing personal, Lion.”

“You don’t understand,” Shiro said. His face was an ashen, worried color. And Keith knew; he knew he had unintentionally, irrevocably scarred Shiro. He sucked in a breath, willing the thoughts away. They were self-pitying and unproductive. There was still so much he _could_ change, and he needed to focus on that. Patience yielded focus. “They won’t stop at anything to pursue destruction of everything they come across. They’re like a plague with no end in sight. There’s no negotiating or bargaining with them, only death.”

“Yeah, Hunk!” Lance looked at him. “Plus don’t you want to meet your girl? She’s waiting out there for you!”

Hunk paled. “I mean, now that I know this isn’t just a figment of Keith’s insanity, yeah. But maybe like, on a moonlit beach walk or a nice steak dinner, not while hurdling toward an alien ship. Like that one!”

Behind them, a Galra ship was fast approaching.

Shiro swallowed. “They found me.”

“Us,” Keith corrected and he sent Shiro a supportive look. “We’re in this together now.”

“We’ve got to get it out of here!” Pidge shouted as the Galra ship opened fire. She grunted as the ship zipped to the side to avoid a shot. “Now’s your time to thread the needle, Tailor!”

“I’m on it!” Lance grinned and slipped past the lasers, firing back his own. 

Keith relaxed slightly, knowing they would be out of the woods soon enough and on their way to Allura and Coran. He only hoped they would know what to do.

 

~

 

The descent to Arus was shaky at best, Hunk’s acrid puke staining the ship’s air and aggravating the tension between its passengers. Keith had been off in his own mind, thinking over potential ways meeting with Allura could go until he heard the dreaded, familiar words from Lance:

“I’m sorry, the Lion’s not talking to me anymore. Wait, wait, wait!”

“Lance,” Keith interrupted loudly. He pushed his hand down on Lance’s shoulder, having nearly forgotten it was still there. He felt Lance flinch under the pressure of his hold. “I swear on my life, if you fart right now I will _end you_. Gone, finished—right out of Blue with no remorse.”

The ship was silent, all occupants’ eyes wide and on Keith.

Lance huffed. “Jeez. Party pooper. Fine. But there’s a castle up ahead.”

It was surreal. Descending into the castle felt more like coming home than waking up in the Garrison had, or even returning to his shack in the desert had. Lance seemed to sense his inner turmoil, lifting one of his hands to cover the one Keith still rested on his shoulder. Lance’s movements were sluggish and quiet to prevent the others from seeing them as he squeezed Keith’s fingers gently. Keith felt his heart jump in his throat in surprise, his fingernails pressing sharp dents into Lance’s jacket. A small, quiet part of him longed to flip his hand over and entangle it with Lance’s, but now wasn’t the time. Maybe it would never be the time. 

Keith let his mind wander again as they entered the Castle. He knew the lights would switch on and lead the way, absolving him of having to remember the exact direction to go. It felt almost clinical walking through the white halls with no conversation save for Hunk calling out ‘hello’. He was used to laughter and fond conversations, not chary, weighted footsteps. 

Finally, they made it to the control room and soon Allura’s pod was raising and opening. She fell out with a surprised, “Father!” falling from her lips, arms stretched out in desperation and hope.

Like before, Lance caught her and immediately blushed. Keith twitched from his spot. 

“ _Hello._ ”

“ _Lance_ ,” Keith snapped. “Stay focused.”

Lance shot him a glare mixed with frustrated confusion. “I am! It’s not my fault all the ladies fall for me.”

“Your ears…” Allura said with a twinge of disgust.

Lance blinked. “What about them?”

“They’re hideous. What’s wrong with them?”

“Nothing’s wrong with them! They heard exactly what you said!”

Allura grabbed him by the ear and forced him to his knees. Keith couldn’t bring himself to be upset about it as she shouted her questions at Lance, demanding to know who they were and how they had found her Castle.

“I don’t know!” Lance said with a wince. “Go chokehold Keith! He’s the one who knew about Blue!”

Allura’s eyes flew toward the others and she faltered in her grasp, hands falling away from Lance. He staggered to his feet and rubbed his ear sullenly. Allura’s gaze ran over everyone, not sure who to identify as Keith. “How do you know about the Blue Lion? How long has it been…?”

Shiro was about to respond when Keith took a step forward. “It’s been ten thousand years, Princess.”

Allura’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know who I am?”

Shiro looked toward Keith, his expression uneasy. “Keith, what’s going on?”

“I…” Keith chewed on his lip. He wasn’t sure what the consequences of telling everyone were, wasn’t sure if they even would believe him. On the other hand, they were standing in an alien Castle, so there had to be some level of understanding for the insane. “The Blue Lion. She told me when I felt her energy. That this place was her home, this Castle. Your Castle.”

“I see,” Allura murmured and went for her control panel. 

Lance crossed his arms. “What do you mean you’ve been talking with my lady, Keith? You said she was mine!”

Oh my God, Lance was insufferable.

“She is,” Keith said with a huff. “It’s not _my_ fault that she trusted me first!”

Lance was about to retort when Coran fell out of his pod and nearly jumped him. They began arguing and Keith rolled his eyes, settling his gaze on the wall. Allura and Shiro spoke heatedly, discussing Zarkon and his surprisingly still alive status—though it was hardly surprising to Keith.

“Man, ten thousand years,” Lance said and crossed his arms. Keith blinked; he hadn’t realized when Lancehad moved over to stand next to him. “That’s like…a thousand times ten.”

Keith smiled softly at the words, catching Lance’s wandering gaze. Maybe he wasn’t insufferable _all_ the time. As their eyes met, Lance startled and quickly looked away, a faint blush dabbing his cheeks. 

“It’s only been since breakfast for me and I’m already starving,” Hunk said, clutching his stomach.

“Yeah, but your vomiting has to have accounted for at least a few meals.”

“Hmm, solid reasoning.”

Keith wasn’t sure how Hunk could handle the goo so early on. It had taken months for Keith to begrudgingly accept its unsettling taste and texture, having been only consuming as little as he could while still providing his body with enough nutrients to function. One thing he had enjoyed about his trip back to Earth was eating real food for the first time in years—had it really been years? Since shooting into space, time had been a distant and rare reward, a concept strangled between shifting day/night cycles and alternating planets. 

Coran broke into the conversation. “A Galra battleship is on its way!”

“How could they have located us so quickly!” Allura hurried back to her controls. 

“I’m not sure,” Lance murmured. His eyes flickered back toward Keith. “But I bet it’s on Keith.”

Keith narrowed his eyes, a ghost of a smirk hovering over his lips. “Say whatever will make you feel better. After getting us stuck on the other side of a wormhole!”

“I’ll stick you on the other side of a wormhole!” Lance drew in close. His eyes danced with affectionate mirth, a teasing grin hidden in the curves of his face.

Keith struggled to keep his own scowl on his face, the left side of his lips turning up against his wishes. He saw Shiro from the corner of his eye, his stance stiff and hesitant. He looked like he wasn’t sure whether or not he was supposed to intervene. He seemed to relax once Lance turned back to face Allura, though. 

Keith tried not to zone out while Allura described the Lions, but he was increasingly restless. He already knew the assignment, and wanted to go out and find Red already. He had missed him, and seeing Blue had only intensified the feelings. It wasn’t until Shiro placed a hand on his shoulder that he refocused. 

“Keith,” Shiro said. “Stay here with Allura and Coran. If you can locate the Red Lion, go get it.”

He nodded faintly, knowing his Lion was on a Galra ship, but not where the ship was. Ultimately, the little knowledge he had was less than helpful.

Soon the others were gone and he stood alone with Allura and Coran, though the man quickly left to check the Castle’s status.

Allura turned to him. “So, Keith, was it?”

“That’s me,” he murmured. 

She smiled. “So you connected to the Blue Lion.”

“In a way,” Keith said. He had a growing hunch that any of what he had felt was mainly her pushing him to gather everyone together, to gather _Lance_ so that he could be her pilot again. “I felt her energy before we found her, but I couldn’t get to her until everyone was together.”

“That’s quite impressive,” Allura said with a nod. “It’s not often that a Paladin is connected to two Lions. I am certain the Red Lion will respond positively to you.”

“I hope,” Keith said quietly. 

“Please,” Allura said and gestured toward the center of the room. “Tell me about where you five are from.”

“Earth,” Keith said. “It’s…it’s all we really knew. We don’t have the kind of technology that you’ve amassed. Shiro was the only one of us who had been in space before today.” He paused, trying to think of how to describe Earth. He didn’t feel like talking about the desert would be particularly interesting, but it was most of what he knew. “There’s a lot of water. Oceans, seas, lakes. And beaches, which are really just water and sand. A lot of people like them, though. I guess it’s kind of like exploring the planet in your own way, at least from what I can tell. I’ve never actually been to one.”

“They sound very beautiful.”

"Yeah,” Keith said. “There’s a lot of beauty on the planet. Beaches, sunsets, stars. I guess you get those out here, too. I don’t know if there’s anything really remarkable about Earth, but maybe that’s what makes it so nice. It doesn’t have to be complicated to mean so much to everyone.”

He wasn’t sure he fit that mold, though, having felt out of place during his year there. It had been a reminder, a slap in the face to the fact that he had no one waiting for him. Not beyond Shiro, who had his own family to return to. 

“I would love to visit sometime,” Allura said, and Keith offered her a small smile. Even though they hadn’t been particularly close before, he had missed her and Coran in his own weird way. And it was that attachment of his that held him back from confessing his heritage. He wanted the familiar connection to last as long as he could selfishly hoard it, actively denying a part of him to preserve approval. That and he felt as though it would be a poor first impression, one that had the potential for Allura to forcibly remove him from the castle and search for another Red Paladin. He couldn’t lose Red, though, not after he had come this far _again._

“I bet you’d like it,” Keith agreed. He didn’t say anything about when they would have the chance to go back. He knew how long the war had lasted before, and he knew Allura knew as well. There was no point in lying about it, but also no point in dwelling on it. “So, the Red Lion. Maybe it’s not on another planet, exactly. Maybe it’s on a ship?”

Allura pursed her lips and nodded. “You may be onto something.”

 

~

 

It was a bit unsettling stepping back onto a Galra ship, even if it meant acquiring Red back. He was on edge, each move a potential misstep and advantage to the enemy. The halls felt somewhat familiar but they were identical enough that he wasn’t exactly sure where he, Shiro, and Pidge were. As soon as Pidge spoke up about her family, though, Keith knew he was on his own again. It didn’t bother him like it had last time, though.

“Go with Pidge, Shiro,” Keith said as he watched the two. “I’ll find Red.”

Shiro gave a firm nod. “Remember, Keith, patience yields focus.”

Keith’s lips quirked up. “How could I forget?”

He was lost again. 

Cursing under his breath, he closed his eyes and focused on connecting with Red, ridding his brain of all other thoughts and worries. His location flashed through Keith’s mind like it had last time and he smirked, racing toward it.

He sat still, his dark eyes boring into Keith. His force field was up, both protecting and trapping him. 

“Hey there, boy,” Keith said.

Eyes lit up at his voice and Keith grinned. Red let out a ferocious roar and the barrier around him vanished. Keith sped inside, taking his familiar position at the helm. He gripped the controls tightly and shut his eyes for a brief second while Red purred fondly in his mind.

“Glad you remembered me,” he said softly. “Now let’s roll.”

He shot a laser burst at the air vent controls, destroying the machine and forcing the hatch open. He flew out into the ensuing space, finally feeling a steady sense of ease with Red’s return. If the Castle was home, Red was a part of his very being. 

He heard the Black Lion roar distantly and the other Lions respond in quick.

“About time you found your Lion,” Lance quipped as they flew back toward the Castle ship. 

Keith rolled his eyes. “Lance, you didn’t even find your _own_ Lion.”

“Control yourselves, you two,” Shiro said. He sounded pleased, though, excited almost. 

An alarm blared, disrupting the conversation.

“Their ship is entering the atmosphere! We need Voltron immediately!”

A strong laser hit the Castle, rattling its shield and shaking the ship.

Hunk groaned. “Man, these Galra guys are efficient. They fixed that cannon in like, minutes!”

“Our barrier is only getting weaker with each blast,” Coran said. “Once our shield is depleted, the Castle will have no defense.”

“Paladins,” Allura called. “I can cover you with the Castle’s defense system for now, but I _need_ you to form Voltron.”

“Jeez, no pressure,” Hunk said. 

Shiro gave his speech and Keith tried to listen, he really did, but he was too invested in figuring out how to he could explain the formation of Voltron to the others in haste. He felt the habitual pull from Red, urging him to communicate verbally with his team. He sighed faintly. 

He heard Lance’s voice: “Uh, how?”

Keith blanched, a vague memory of Hunk crashing into him flittering past his mind. He made a point to maneuver around the area, landing closer to the Green Lion and farther from Hunk’s Lion. 

“We just. Need to connect minds,” Keith said, dodging a rapid laser from the Galran ships. “With the Lions and each other.”

“Since when are you an expert on all things Voltron?” 

Keith gritted his teeth. He wasn’t sure why Lance was suddenly filled with anger, but it was not the time for it; Lance could go and whine when the team wasn’t being shot at, if he so desired. “Why can’t you just trust me on this!”

“Combine!” Hunk slammed his Lion into Keith’s.

“Hey!” So much for avoiding it.

“Okay, so that didn’t work,” Hunk said.

Keith glared at him. “Obviously.”

“Quickly, Paladins!”

“Maybe if we fly in our formation, we’ll just combine,” Shiro suggested, grasping for cooperation and success. “Pull together. On three! One, two, three! Voltron!”

“No!” Keith shouted; he wasn’t about to get sucked into the ship again. “The ship’ll just pull us in!”

“Then what do you propose, Mullet?”

Keith ground his teeth together harder. He had been born with maybe a maximum of ten nerves if he was being generous, and Lance was currently on his last one. “I already told you my idea, _Lance._ ”

“Paladins, we need to work together,” Shiro said, voice firm. “We can’t be fighting like this while we form Voltron. Keith, what was your idea about connecting?”

“We need to be one with our Lions,” Keith said softly. “See what they see, hear what they hear. We need to trust them, completely.”

“Okay,” Shiro said. “Come on team, let’s form Voltron!”

Keith sucked in a breath, praying that their enthusiasm and effort was enough to form Voltron. His frown made way to a smile as he felt his Lion pull toward the Black Lion, settling in its position as an arm. 

“We did it!” Pidge shouted. 

“Oh my God,” Hunk said. “Guys, I’m a _leg!_ ”

“This is amazing,” Lance said, voice unusually quiet.

“Good job, team! Now let’s go destroy that cannon!”

Voltron shot toward the ship, landing swiftly on one of its wings and slamming an arm down to smash the cannon. They tore through the machinery, firing blast after blast as the ship’s functioning fell apart in waves. They soared back to the ground as the ship burst open and exploded into a fiery blast in the atmosphere.

“Good work, Paladins!” Allura cheered.

“Thanks, beautiful,” Lance said.

Keith scowled, but held his tongue.

“Nicely done,” Coran said. “I can’t wait to see you all form Voltron again and again!”

“Uh, excuse me?” Hunk started. “We barely could form Voltron _this_ time.”

“Ahh, but you did,” Coran said. “Though it’ll be a lot tougher when there’s dozens, even hundreds of ships! That’s the life that comes with being the Defenders of the Universe, though.”

“I like how that sounds,” Shiro mused as they made their way back to the Castle.

The others were talking amongst each other, voices rapid and excited despite the weight of their roles as defenders. Keith felt simmering anger tumble through his stomach, though, still displeased with Lance over his distrust and opposition. They had been getting along so well—better, at least—but it seemed like they had suddenly taken five steps backwards, stuck back in a competitive rivalry. He couldn’t fathom what had been a catalyst for it, the two of them only so recently having been joking around. He wasn’t going to let Lance’s stupid rivalry undermine their mission, though. 

He found Lance walking out of the hangar with Hunk, gesticulating wildly with a huge grin on his face. Keith balled up his fists and yelled, “Lance!”

Lance paused and looked over. His grin widened and Keith’s heart stuttered with an anguish that he swallowed down and locked tightly away. Preferably forever. “Man, that was so awesome! Did you see how Blue flies? She’s _incredible_.”

Keith crossed his arms. “Yeah, she is. So what’s your deal?”

“I’m just going to go, uh, that way,” Hunk said and sped off.

Lance furrowed his brows. “What do you mean what’s my deal? We just formed Voltron! Why aren’t you more excited about it?”

“Because you fought me every step of the way!” Keith shouted. “Why couldn’t you just trust me for once?”

Lance frowned. “I’ve trusted you a whole bunch of times already. I just don’t appreciate you trying to show off to the Princess.”

Keith took a step back. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me! Always taking the role of the savior! You’re acting like you know everything—you even went against Shiro, who’s our actual leader if you hadn’t noticed. News flash, Allura isn’t interested.”

“Oh my God,” Keith said with an incredulous laugh. He felt dizzy with rage. “News flash yourself: she’s not interested in you, either.”

“Yeah, well.” Lance crossed his arms and settled into a deep scowl that looked so wrong on his face. “We’ll see about that!”

“You’re so stupid,” Keith hissed. 

“And you’re a cocky jerk! Just stay out of my way, all right? I don’t need you telling me what to think and how to act.” Lance pushed past him, purposely shoving against his shoulder as he exited.

Keith let out a loud breath once he was alone. He swallowed thickly, holding his arm with one hand and rubbing it where Lance had bumped him. It hadn’t been particularly rough, and it definitely wouldn’t come even close to leaving a bruise, but it hurt nonetheless. Maybe he should have seen it coming, though, having neglected the memory of how enamored Lance had been with Allura in the beginning. As much as he wanted to pretend that they were all the same as he had left them, they weren’t. And maybe they never would be. 

“Hey.”

Keith turned, half hoping it was Lance returning even though he knew the voice didn’t match. “Shiro.”

Shiro smiled. “You did well out there.”

“Thanks,” Keith said shortly. “You too. Sorry for taking over there at the end.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Shiro took a few steps toward him. “You seem to understand the Lions pretty well.”

“Yeah, well,” Keith said. He did not want to be having this conversation now or ever. “I spent a year searching for Blue. I guess I learned a lot from it in the process.”

“Keep it up,” Shiro said. “We could use someone who actually knows what he’s doing.”

Keith offered a weak smile. “Yeah.”

When it came down to it all, though, he had no idea what he was doing; he was swimming blindly in whatever direction the current threw him and hoping he could catch a miracle.

“And Lance will come around,” Shiro continued.

Keith scoffed and turned the other way. Shiro knew him too well—knew exactly what topics Keith didn’t want to talk about. “Whatever. He can be stupid if he wants, but he shouldn’t be putting the whole team in jeopardy in the process.”

“It’s a lot to come to terms with,” Shiro said. “This is all…so new. It’ll just take some time. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“Not like he’s given _me_ that liberty,” Keith said, and he knew he was being petty and childish but it hurt, and he wasn’t sure how to make it stop. He took a breath to calm down. “It’s fine, Shiro. I don’t know why I even bothered trying to be nice to him. He’s not going to stop hating me, anyway.”

He left before Shiro could get a word out, not up to arguing or defending himself.

 

~

 

Training was Hell. Even with Keith’s knowledge of what was to come, there were still heaps of miscommunication, frustration, and criticism snarled out between the lot of them. Lance snapped at him a record amount of times during the Maze, and Pidge’s refusal to continue the Mind Meld had felt angrier than the first time. They had only barely been able to form Voltron, a feat that lasted for no more than a couple of seconds before they were arguing again. Fighting the Gladiator brought them all to the floor in a pile. And okay, it was really just Keith’s fault that he purposely didn’t protect Lance in the drone swarm simulation, but who could blame him, honestly. He was already tetchy from the night before which only worked to further the already high tension. The nosedive had been a mistake in general, Red and Blue once again landing in a heap in the sand, except Lance and Keith’s snarking banter held a bitter edge to it. 

What Keith really wanted was to just slam straight into Lance, but he respected Blue far too much for it.

By the time the food fight rolled around, Keith was both mentally and physically exhausted on an astral level. He hardly had the energy to throw the goop, his heart not in it. The others were laughing, though, which brought a tired smile to his face. Even if he was still annoyed with Lance, he was also tired of fighting and of the steady failure in their team building exercises.

“I actually don’t hate you right now,” Lance said, flashing a shy smile at him.

Keith offered his own, weary smile. He was just so tired of being angry. So as soon as their handcuffs were released, he concealed his indignation and headed off toward the training deck. He was tired, but not tired enough to forgo training. He missed his old body, one that was sculpted from hour after hour spent on the training deck, fighting Gladiators, practicing with his bayard, and testing his knife. He was by no means out of shape, but there was still a stark difference from when he had been thrown out of time.

It gave him a weird sensation, when he put actual thought into it. They were all still the same people, technically, but did that necessarily mean they would grow into mirror images of who they had been? Keith hated the possibility that he was subtly influencing their growth or even unconsciously sabotaging it. If they strayed from who Keith had once known them as, were they even really his friends in the same regard? Were the friends he had involuntarily left behind gone forever, condemned to exist in a partially unraveled reality? As much as he enjoyed seeing them all again, he wanted _his_ versions of Shiro, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge, even Allura and Coran. Did they even exist anymore? Had they ever?

He didn’t realize his knuckles were bleeding until his train of thought snapped like a thread in favor of attending to the searing pain and rattling noise. He hissed, uninjured hand raising to cover the wound protectively. The blood seeped through his gloves, staining the tips of his fingers an unsettling maroon color. His gaze wandered to the ground where his knife, its tip now bloodied, lay on the ground. He picked it up and headed toward the infirmary; they would have to have some sort of gauze in one of the drawers or cabinets. 

Wiping down the knife was his first priority. He didn’t want blood getting on anymore of his clothes once he sheathed the knife. He rinsed it in the small sink, setting it aside on the counter to dry. Rummaging through the cabinets, he eventually found what looked enough like gauze to satisfy him. There were healing pods, of course, but a measly cut hardly necessitated such demand. That and he didn’t want the others to know about it.

He wrapped his hand dutifully and slid the glove back on. He snatched his knife up, sheathed it, and headed back out, hesitating in the doorway. He was split between wanting to head back to the training deck, or extending a break to his body and retiring to his room. Fortunately, he didn’t have to decide.

“Oh, hey, Keith.”

Keith glanced up. “Hunk.”

“I was just going to test out some of my cooking skills,” he said and jabbed a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “All this goo is getting pretty old.”

Keith stifled a laugh; if only Hunk knew how long they had to subsist on it. “Yeah, it’s definitely not my first or second choice, either.”

“Want to be my taste tester?”

“I…” The untrusting, judgmental part of him wanted to grill Hunk, ask him why he wanted _Keith_ of all people to join him, where Lance was and why they weren’t together. But he also knew Hunk was the last person to be manipulative or cruel. “Yeah, sure. I could go for something that doesn’t come out of a hose.”

Hunk looked distraught. “It comes out of a _hose_?!”

Keith winced. “Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that.”

Hunk sighed and they started walking. “I should have known. Anything that tastes like that had to come from somewhere unholy.”

Keith let out a small laugh as they entered the kitchen. 

Hunk immediately got to work, seemingly already apt in locating everything he needed. Keith lingered near the table, unsure of whether or not he was supposed to be helping. He had cooked before—had to, when living alone—but he didn’t gain the same kind of enjoyment or satisfaction that Hunk did over a finished dish.

Hunk quirked an eyebrow and shot a look at Keith over his shoulder. “You know, you can sit down.”

“Right,” Keith said and took a seat, tapping his fingers against the table. Now he felt useless _and_ awkward. 

He watched as Hunk produced some sort of savory looking dish, not unlike a curry. He presented it proudly to Keith. 

“It looks good.” And it did—no green food goo in sight.

“Now it’s time for your job,” Hunk said and held up a fork.

Keith gave him a gracious smile and took a bite. His eyes lit up. “Wow—I. Hunk, this is incredible. Wow.”

Hunk beamed. “Oh thank God. I wasn’t sure if the annatto would add to it or overpower it, but it’s one of Lance’s favorite spices.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Keith admitted. “But whatever you added was good.”

Hunk sat down next to him, movements calm but tired. “I used to cook for him a lot at the Garrison. He’d sneak into the kitchens for me and grab whatever he could and I’d make a recipe out of it. It was kind of a test for both of us—his stealth and my culinary abilities. His favorite was this lamb curry, but the Garrison was always too cheap to stock lamb. So I only made that for him when we visited home.”

Keith took another bite, savoring the taste. It was a perfectly balanced mixture of spicy, peppery, and nutty. “Did you two live together?”

“Nah, but we were basically neighbors,” Hunk said. He rested his chin his fist. “His family had like, a walking door policy. Anyone and everyone could just walk in; doorbells and knocking weren’t a thing at their place. So sometimes I’d just pop over and help his mother or grandmother cook something. Man, his grandmother _loved_ me. I’m pretty sure she put in a request for adoption before we left for the Garrison.”

“Hmm,” Keith said. It wasn’t that he was uninterested—far from it. Instead, he felt the familiar ache of loneliness. He wondered if anyone had ever viewed his shack as having an open door policy, if it could even be called that when no one visited willingly. “You two are really close.”

“Yeah, man,” Hunk said and there was a fond smile on his face, like Lance just molded into his life perfectly, a soft-pressed puzzle piece whose purpose was solid and explicit and _permanent_. It was an existence that could be cultivated solely on unspoken expressions and shared memories but had been forged from years in the making. Keith had never felt so envious and detached. “I’ve known him for like, eleven years? It’s been a while for sure.”

Keith couldn’t think of anyone he had known for that long, even his parents. He swallowed harshly. “Yeah.”

Footsteps came pattering toward them.

“Hey, Hunk! What smells so good?” Lance stood in the doorway, hands settled low on his hips.

“Ooh, Lance! Come take a seat, I made my curry that you really like.” Hunk hurried back to where the pot was simmering in low heat upon the stovetop. “This isn’t lamb, I mean, or maybe it is. Who knows what Allura and Coran have found out here.”

Keith instinctively stood up and pushed himself back, his chair clattering against the hard floor. “I’m tired—I’m going to go to bed. Thanks for the late night snack, Hunk.”

Hunk turned around, perplexed. “Uh, yeah, Keith. Goodnight?”

“Night.”

It was quiet in his room, the way he typically liked it. Now, though, the silence was excruciating and all consuming, an unwanted scouring of the vulnerabilities he stashed away beneath impressions of disinterest and disregard. Curling up on his bed, he faced the wall and slipped a hand under his pillow to touch his knife, feeling it vibrate lightly. It was odd, missing a sense of camaraderie and friendship that he had never really officially had, one he had only shut his eyes and plugged his ears to and pretended to have because God he wanted it. But he knew it was impossible for his team—his real team—to be as distressed by his absence as he was. Maybe they hadn’t noticed; maybe Kolivan hadn’t mentioned it, had assumed he ran off impulsively and got himself killed, or shamed the Blade of Marmora by cowering in secrecy. 

He didn’t really fit in anyway, neither suited well as a Paladin or a Blade member, too distant for Voltron and too impulsive for the Blades. As he eventually fell into a restless sleep, he wondered if his teammates had cleared out his room in the Castle ship yet, his belongings already sparse and generic from his transition between groups. Maybe Lance would move into the space. He had always whined about Keith’s room being just inches closer to the kitchen, as if the fact made a veritable difference. When Keith considered it, though, the notion no longer bothered him nearly as much. He just hoped Lance and the rest of the team would think about him from time to time, if nothing more than to prolong his waning memory. 


	3. Chapter 3

“We’re on track for fixing the Castle,” Allura announced the next day. She stood at her controls, hands clapped together with excitement. “It should be up and running soon enough, likely tomorrow morning.”

Shiro looked relieved. “Oh, good. I was starting to feel like we were sitting ducks here. I’ve been waiting to go on an actual mission.”

“Not to mention all the _ladies_ we’ll get to meet on the missions,” Lance drawled. Shiro and Pidge shared an eye roll while Hunk gave a fond sigh. Keith stayed quiet, his eyes trained on the ground. 

“Right,” Allura said dully, clearly unimpressed with Lance’s overall existence; Keith didn’t blame her. “Well—”

An alarm blared, interrupting her words.

“Huh?” Hunk’s head spun around in search for the noise. “What’s that? You guys heard that, right?”

Keith bristled; last time, the alarm had been for Klaizap trying to sneak into the Castle, which meant the Gladiator Ro-Beast was also nearby. The details of the fight were hazy, but Keith remembered enough to know that it was the precursor to the explosion on the Castle ship and Lance nearly dying. He could fix it though. Even if he failed to prevent the Kerberos launch, he could still save Lance. 

The computer beeped and lit up, showing Klaizap slinking toward the Castle.

Shiro and Pidge quietly excused themselves in the meantime, having decided Klaizap was not a threat and more intent on checking on the rescued Galra prisoners and helping Pidge find answers. In the chaos of everything, the other Paladins hardly paid heed to their departure. 

“He’s headed for the Castle,” Keith said and stood up, instinctively unsheathing his bayard.

Lance snorted. “Your bayard, really? He’s like the size of it. I don’t think we’re in any danger.” 

Keith stiffened and dissolved his sword. He turned the other way to avoid Lance’s resulting stare, though he managed to catch a flicker of incredulity overtake Lance’s face before Keith forced his eyes onto the opposing wall. 

“We must go welcome him,” Allura said and she took off for the door. 

“He’s so cute,” Hunk gushed. 

“We should knit him a little sweater,” Lance added. 

“Oh, man,” Hunk said. “You know that a pale red would make his eyes pop.”

“Totally,” Lance said and high fived him.

Keith huffed, speeding up his gait to catch up with Allura who was opening the front door and stepping out. He heard a yelp of surprise. 

“It’s okay,” Allura said. “We have only good intentions. You can come out.”

Klaizap shuffled out of the bushes, eyeing the Paladins warily. “I am Klaizap. Our village comes seeking answers. We did not mean to displease the Lion Goddess.” 

Allura paused. “Why do you believe you’ve displeased her?”

“The destruction!” Klaizap gripped his blade. “The Heaven has rained down fire and sent a giant to dance in the skies.” 

“I think he’s talking about Voltron,” Hunk said. 

“Yeah, I think we get it,” Lance said. 

“There is no need to worry,” Allura said gently. “I am Princess Allura of Altea, and this is my Castle.”

Klaizap gasped and bowed. “Lion Goddess!”

“Please,” Allura said. She offered out her hand, smiling. “Take us to your village for a proper introduction.”

“Allura,” Keith warned. He glanced back to the Castle. “We shouldn’t stray too far from the ship. There could be an attack from Zarkon at any point—we need to keep our defenses up and focus on the mission.” 

“We are,” Allura said, not even turning to look at him. “That’s what the shield is for. And thanking any people for hosting their planet _is_ our mission.”

Keith shook his head. “I’m staying back. Someone needs to be here just in case.”

“Man, you are paranoid,” Lance said. “Have fun missing the party, Mullet.”

Keith crossed his arms and headed back inside. He was itching to get to Red, to get a head start on fighting the Robeast so that they wouldn’t wind up caught off guard again.

Coran looked surprised to see him. “Number four, why aren’t you out with the Arusians?” 

“I’m tired,” Keith said shortly and started off toward his hanger. 

“Hold on,” Coran said. “If you’re here, you can help me stabilize the itreonper thrusters!”

“Uhh. I don’t think I’m going to be much of a help with that,” Keith said. He hardly knew how regular thrusters worked, let alone whatever itreonper ones were. It sounded more like a Pidge job, but she was deep inside the Castle’s walls and busy, so Keith was the sole lucky candidate. Briefly, he wished he had gone along with Klaizap and the others.

“Nonsense! Come along now, I’ll show you.”

Keith grimaced but trailed along after him. Fortunately, when they arrived in the control room Coran began working and insisted Keith simply take a seat. Keith flopped down on his control chair, his arms spread over the sides. Coran began humming some Altean song, tapping in various commands and monitoring the Castle’s reaction. 

Keith relaxed his body, sagging deeper into the cushion and silently thanking Coran’s introspection. He figured Coran assumed that he was feeling lonely or outcasted—which, yeah, he was, but that wasn’t important at the moment—and wanted to include him in some sort of activity. It was a kind gesture, but Keith still wanted to visit Red and prepare for the incoming attack. 

“Coran,” Keith said, interrupting the man’s third verse which had developed into full blown singing. “What do you think of Zarkon?”

Coran paused. “What do I think of Zarkon? Well, boy, I think you can take a guess.”

“No, no,” Keith said. “I mean his plans, I guess. Do you think he’s going to launch an attack? I…I’ve been getting this feeling today that something’s wrong.”

Coran perked up. “Oh?”

“I don’t know how to describe it,” Keith said. “Just a gut feeling.”

And having lived through it. 

“There’s no need to worry!” Coran offered a kind smile. “If anything happens we’ll be safer than a Moucaut’s nest! The Castle’s alert system is second to none!”

The Castle ship jolted and Keith felt his blood run cold as he watched an explosion overtake the ground. He leapt out of his seat and began running for Red. He ground down on his teeth; he knew he should have never delayed his trek toward Red. He could have been out there already, holding off the Ro-Beast while the Arusians fled and the other Paladins assembled.

“Everyone, get to your lions!” Shiro’s voice rang out over the comms. “Something just entered the atmosphere and it doesn’t look friendly.” 

“We’re on it!” Lance called back. 

Keith flew Red out of the Castle and toward the now decimated field of grass. The Ro-Beast began rising to its feet and Keith shot a quick burst to slow it. The laser hit directly on the Ro-Beast’s left arm, but it was utterly unfazed. “I need some backup!” 

“On your left,” Shiro said, speeding past Keith on his left side.

“And your right!” Pidge joined in, firing her own blast toward the enemy. 

“It’s not enough,” Keith said, pulling closer to the others. Lance and Hunk entered the field quickly. “His armor is just deflecting our shots.”

The Ro-Beast formed a purple static orb, sending it straight for Hunk.

“Watch out!” Lance shouted and fired at the orb. It was a straight shot, but did little to deter the orb. “What the cheese…”

Hunk only just dodged the shot, it pressing sparks against the side of the Yellow Lion. “Oh, God! What was that thing?”

“It was pure energy,” Pidge said, her voice awestruck but also horrified. “The laser didn’t even wind it.” 

The Robeast was faster than Keith remembered, but they were just a lick faster and avoided the orb as it curved back around. 

“This…I recognize this,” Shiro muttered. “This was the same kind of weapon they used on the Galra ship—I fought it.”

“Did you win?” Hunk’s voice sounded a little hysterical. “We could really use that right now!”

“I know its technique,” Shiro said firmly. “It sends its orb out three times before it needs to recharge—the third shot is its weakest. We need to wait until it fires and then attack, otherwise we’ll never do enough damage. Everyone, form Voltron!” 

“Okay, three charges, got it,” Lance said. “What number are we on? Three?”

“One,” Keith said with a frown. 

“It’s heading for the village!” Pidge yelled out. 

“Oh no it isn’t,” Shiro said. Voltron flew toward the Ro-Beast, dodging its second shot. They zipped overhead and past it, leading it away. Fortunately, it took the bait and followed after. “Okay, we’ve got it following us. We just have to wait for it to fire one more—”

“Incoming on the left!”

Voltron staggered to the side, putting up its shield and bracing for impact. The shot hit dead on, forcing Voltron to skid back in the dirt.

“I keep forgetting it returns,” Lance said. He sounded strained. 

“Only one more,” Keith reassured. 

They held up a shield in preparation. “It’s about to fire! What do we do?”

Shiro hesitated. “I…I had my sword when I fought it last time.”

Keith bit his lip. “I think I know what to do.”

He thrust his bayard in his Lion, the familiar sword materializing into Voltron’s hand. They ran at the Robeast, swinging sharply and cutting a long line into its armor. The Ro-Beast fell on its knees, spouting out electrical sparks before exploding. 

“All right!”

“We got it!”

Keith forced a weak smile. The fight had gone better than the first time, the Ro-Beast having done essentially zero damage to the Arusians’ village. The victory felt hollow, somehow, as though it hadn’t been earned. Why was he incapable of creating actual changes to this timeline? It felt like no matter the path he took, the events were dreadfully static. Keith was quiet as he walked out of his Lion. 

Lance was waiting for him at his hanger’s exit, fidgeting with one hand on his hip and the other rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, hey.”

“Hi?”

Lance swallowed. “That was pretty cool back there. With the sword.”

Keith blinked. “Thank…you?”

“Wow, don’t sound so surprised,” Lance said with a huff. His face fell a bit. “How’d you do that? How’d you _know_ to do that?”

Keith shrugged and started heading toward his room. He was sweaty and wanted to get out of the restrictive armor as quickly as he could, especially before the smell settled in. Lance followed. “Red just…told me to.”

“Huh.”

Keith spared a glance at him. Lance stood a few feet behind, arms stilled at his sides. Keith didn’t know how to respond, so he settled for stopping himself from walking away. That was friendly enough, right?

“Do you…” Lance bit his lip. 

“Do I…?”

Lance ducked his head and mumbled, “Do you think you could train me?”

“ _What?_ ”

“Don't make me say it twice!” Lance looked up at him, and Keith nearly staggered at the heaviness of his gaze. Lance’s eyes were dark but trusting, searching Keith for a sign of approval or understanding. There was weight to his face, somehow already sharpened through participation in events that were still yet to come. Keith didn’t understand how such a sentiment could even exist in Lance, could mold and sculpt a version of him that was weathered beyond repair and so fully unjust. He deserved better, deserved his young age and inexperience to be stretched thin and wrung for every last drop of hope and serenity the cruel word could offer, the same ones that had been brutishly clawed from Keith’s being so long ago. “You just…God, of _course_ it comes to you so naturally. Piloting giant space cats—of _course_ Keith Kogane is naturally incredible at it even when this whole thing makes no sense. I don’t know why I thought this would be any different.”

“Lance…” The words were pushing at his lips, that it had taken him long, grueling hours of training, only to still never be good enough as evident by his failure to change the past. Each bruise and cut and scar that no longer imprinted itself on his body—a now fictitious testament to his experience. 

Lance shook his head. “Just say yes or no; I want to fly Blue better.”

It was a bad idea—an extremely bad idea. He wanted to spend more time with Lance, but not at the expense of risking the truth. He knew the more time he spent around Lance, the more Lance would question Keith’s seemingly spontaneously acquired ability to pilot Red. And the more suspicion that grew, the more Keith would struggle to keep everything a secret.

But his eyes. His expression and his voice—it had broken something in Keith, perhaps long ago, but the realization only set in now. He took one look at Lance and knew for certain that the Blue Paladin was going to be the thing to bring him to his knees and he wouldn’t even be upset about it.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s start tomorrow morning.”

 

~

 

Keith’s sleep was restless that night, prompting him to give up trying around six in the morning and head toward the training deck. He knew it would be beneficial for neither him nor Lance if he was to try enlisting an early-early morning training session, so he didn’t even bother considering it. His warm ups were brief but effective, and around eight Lance strolled in. 

“Morning, Mullet.”

Keith stilled in his stretches. “You’re up early.”

Lance shrugged. “You said morning. I’m surprised you didn’t hunt me down by six.”

“Like you’d be awake enough to focus,” Keith said. He stood up. “So. What was it that you wanted? Flying tips? A demonstration? We don’t exactly have a simulator here.”

“Uh, both, I guess.” Lance suddenly looked nervous, which was weird. Bravado was Lance’s specialty, thedriving momentum for his unwavering confidence and rivalry. 

“Okay,” Keith said shortly. “Let’s head toward the Lions and I’ll talk on the way.”

The training went remarkably well, though Keith was hesitant to consider it a success until they had more than one session. There had been a surprising amount of restraint on both ends, neither of them wanting to indirectly initiate a fight on the first day. It had been almost fun, though, to fly Red while Lance was next to him. Even still, the atmosphere had been fickle, shifting from earnest excitement to embarrassed avoidance and to prickled silence all within the span of a few hours. The haste of it all left Keith feeling whiplash, unsure of where they stood, whether it was in the depths of rivalry, the transitory wades of teammates, or the throes of budding friendship. 

“That…went well,” Keith said eventually as they left the hangers. Regardless of their relation, their steady teamwork had been undeniable. He only hoped such progress would worm its way into their actual missions. “Tomorrow you can try out what I showed you today.”

Lance was on the cusp of responding when Allura interrupted him. 

“ _There_ you two are! The Arusians have been kind enough to plan a banquet as a thank you.”

Lance perked up. “A party? Sweet! And looking for me, huh? Did you want to be my date, Princess?”

“Looking for _us_ ,” Keith corrected though he knew it was in vain. His assumptions were proven all too correct when Lance pointedly ignored his retort. Keith wasn’t sure why he bothered, trailing a good ten feet behind Lance as they followed Allura to the party. 

“Hey!” Hunk greeted them. “I was wondering where you two were. You missed their reenactment of us—I gotta say it was pretty spot on. We ought to get something like that.”

“Like what?” Lance picked up a drink and sniffed it. Keith watched the liquid swirl around the cup, his stomach filled with dread at the sight of the beverage. Even with all the time that had passed, his throat and mouth still possessed an acute memory of its awful taste. 

“You know, like a cheer,” Hunk said. “Like, a team cheer that we do.”

“Mm-hmm. Yeah, okay. How about, uh…When I say Vol, you say Tron! Vol!”

Keith blanched. The stupid chant—the godawful chant that he had had the audacity to forget. He had the opportunity to say it correctly the first time around, but there was no way he was sacrificing his preferences to appease the chant’s unnecessary and frankly overstayed existence. “Uh…Voltron.”

Lance frowned. “No! No, no no. The cheer includes the instructions. I say Vol, and you say…”

“Vol…tron?” Keith did his best to hide his smug tone. Take _that_ , stupid chant. 

“We’ll work on it,” Lance promised and raised the cup to his mouth.

“Wait!” Keith shot out a hand. Lance sent him an odd look that bubbled with suspicion. “Don’t…you don’t know what that is.”

Lance snorted. “Uh, and what’s it going to be? Poison? You have such little faith in our allies.” 

Keith crossed his arms. “I’m just saying.”

Lance waved him off and took a long, dramatic sip, maybe a last ditch effort to prove some absurd point that he had only half sketched out in his mind and was eons away from considering the consequences to. In all honesty, it likely consisted of only one notable point: ‘Keith is wrong and this is why’. Affirming its existence seemed to be a constant endeavor of his. But within seconds, his eyes bulged and he spat out the drink, gagging immensely. He pressed a hand to his chest plate and shuddered. “Coran! What _was_ that?”

“That was me being right,” Keith said. 

Lance glared at him. “It’s bad karma to be rude to a dying man.” 

“I think you’ll live,” Keith said dryly. 

“That would be Nunvil!” Coran said, and Keith tuned out the explanation to watch some of the Arusians dance around each other. 

A few moments later, Keith turned in time to see Lance trudge off, shoulders slumped and weary. Keith felt his stomach clench with the taut pull of unease. Absently, he handed his drink to Hunk and said, “Here, I’ll be right back.”

His own footsteps were strong, determined, and purposeful. He stalked briskly after Lance’s disappearing figure. He was in the midst of formulating a plan when Shiro interrupted him. 

“Keith,” he said and gave him an easy smile. “Where are you off to?”

“I…I just needed to use the bathroom,” Keith said, averting his gaze; he was never good at lying to Shiro. “I think Pidge was looking for you.”

Shiro nodded. “We’ll talk later.”

Keith made his way back up the stairs, listening closely for where Lance had gone. He eventually found him standing beside Coran. They were in the middle of the room, staring off at a display of the galaxy and talking quietly amongst each other. Keith cleared his throat and the two turned to stare at him.

Lance looked surprised to see him, though the quizzical expression turned quickly into one of defeat. “Look, Keith. I’m not in the mood for a fight.”

“Neither am I,” Keith said, and both of them were startled by the soft tone of his voice. “You, uh. Left pretty quickly there.”

Lance grimaced and turned away to stare back at where Earth was being projected. “I guess.”

“Hey Coran,” Keith said. He took a step closer. “Do you mind asking Shiro when we’re set to train tomorrow?”

“Not at all,” Coran said cheerfully and headed off.

“What was that all about?”

Keith blinked. “What?”

Lance shot him a weird frown. “Since when do you need Coran to talk to Shiro for you?”

Keith shrugged wordlessly, not having a concrete answer. 

“Whatever,” Lance said with a huff. “You’re acting so weird.”

“I just…don’t trust all this,” Keith said. Maybe being vague would subtly warn Lance of the ensuing danger. But of course Lance was Lance, so it didn’t.

“What _do_ you trust?” Lance said, and his tone was almost angry. “Seriously. You’re always ‘This seems fishy’ and ‘I’m incapable of dropping my wannabe stoic act for five seconds to learn what fun is’.”

Keith crossed his arms. “I’ve never said the word fishy.”

“Oh my quiznak!” Lance threw up his arms. “It’s a figure of—you know what, forget it. Go find someone else to bother, okay?”

“Lance…” Keith faltered and dropped his arms. “Look, I know we’re really far from Earth.”

Lance snorted. “Really now.”

“But that doesn’t mean we’re never going to get back there,” Keith said. He didn’t exactly believe his words, but it seemed like Lance needed to hear them. He just hoped Lance wouldn’t be annoyed by the implausibility of it all. “I…I bet your family misses you a lot, too.”

There was no response.

Keith sighed and headed toward the door. “We should get back to the party.”

“I’m not really feeling up to it,” Lance said softly. He didn’t sound as angry anymore, though. Keith briefly allowed himself to feel pleased by it. “You can go on without me.” A pause. “Hey Rover.”

Keith had only a moment of introspection while Lance’s face was twisting into confusion. 

“Keith!” Lance shouted and threw him to the ground. 

Keith grunted, trying to elbow Lance off of him when the explosion happened. The castle shook and Keith tumbled a few feet away from the force. He groaned, scrambling to sit up and squinting to see through the clouds of dust. It choked him, clawed at his lungs and left him coughing violently. There was ringing in his ears, matching in rhythm with the sound of steps increasing in volume. 

“What happened?” It was Shiro.

Keith blinked the blurriness away. His eyes darted around the room before latching onto Lance, who lie on the Castle floor, face covered in soot and body stiff. 

“Lance!” Keith struggled to his feet, raw terror inundating his chest and spilling up into his mouth, escaping as strangled and rasped calls to Lance that sounded so frantic to his own ears they almost frightened him. Shiro grabbed his wrist but Keith easily shook it off. He shot toward Lance, stumbling at the last second and knocking his left knee against the ground. He bent down above Lance, hands fluttering over various limbs but too afraid to touch, wanting to soothe but dreading the prospect of exacerbating any wounds.

There were multiple sets of hands trying to tug him away but he held his stance firm. He faintly heard himself muttering sentence fragments that never progressed beyond “no” and “ _Lance_ ”. The others were talking behind him, though the noise seemed to travel past him. He curled his shaking fingers around Lance’s closest wrist, one that lay limply over his chest armor. 

“Keith,” Shiro said sternly. “I can stay with him and guard the Castle—you should go with Allura or Hunk.”

Keith shook his head, the motions numb and robotic. He was experiencing the scene from a distance, peering and prying his way into it, wriggling past unspoken boundaries to observe what he had tried so desperately to prevent. His body ached, its muscles licked with flames and the insides doused in ice. 

“Keith,” Shiro tried again. “You’re in shock. Lance needs to be taken to safety, and if you can’t do that then I’ll have to.”

“No,” Keith mumbled, wanting to squeeze the cool wrist in his possession but finding himself unable. He crouched closer in response to the threads of responsibility and guilt that tangled and weaved their way into his tendons. They engulfed him like an tempestuous inferno, a lead blanket of blame. “I…Let me. I’ll do it.”

“If you’re sure,” Shiro said hesitantly.

“I am.” He picked up Lance as one would a baby, resting him in the crook of his neck as Keith pulled himself to his feet. He bent slightly and placed an arm under Lance’s knees, lifting the lower half of his body up to level with the upper half. He tore his gaze away from Lance and looked to Shiro. “I’ll be right back.”

Shiro nodded and Keith was off. 

He left Lance at the top of the stairs, propped up against the wall with his bayard in hand as a last resort. Keith held his shoulders tersely, searching for a sign of consciousness. He gave Lance one last squeeze before standing up and whispering, “Hold on, Lance.”

Keith dashed back toward where Shiro had been, only to find him in the midst of combat with Sendak. “Shiro!”

Briefly, he saw Shiro turn toward him and offer a ghastly expression, mouth wide and fearful, before there was a sharp pain on his head and his vision went black.

 

~

 

He came to in waves; his first sense to return was sound. His eyelids twitched as he listened to the distant screams from Shiro. Pidge’s voice flickered in and out, drowned in static. He felt the pain next, the dull press of a deep ache in his bones, the throbbing weight against his head. It took a few tries for him to fully open his eyes and he took in the scene before him. Sendak was grappling with Pidge and Keith faintly saw Allura running in. 

“Stand back,” Sendak ordered.

Keith struggled to his knees, reaching blindly for his bayard.

A shot rang out from behind him, hitting Sendak in the side. He staggered, dropping Pidge. Keith flung his head around to see Lance sitting at the top of the stairs and falling back into unconsciousness. Shiro took advantage of Sendak’s falter and ran at him, getting immediately knocked away. Keith tore his gaze away from Lance—how had he _done_ that? It was at such a distance, and his bayard hadn’t become a sniper rifle yet—and positioned his bayard at Sendak’s feet, tripping him. Pidge darted forward and electrocuted him, destroying his mechanical arm in the process. 

Keith jumped to his feet and swung his sword at Sendak. The two pressed against each other hard, Sendak pushing back with all his force.

“Now, Keith!” Allura called from the control panel.

In an all too familiar scene, Keith kicked Sendak back into the barrier, blocking him from the others. Keith huffed a sigh of relief, gaze wandering over to where Pidge was helping free Shiro from his cuffs. Lance still sat on the top of the stairs, and so Keith began climbing them. Lance blinked drowsily at him.

“Hey there,” Keith said, voice soft. It seemed distasteful to be loud, as though the volume of his words alone would somehow be enough to splinter the moment. He bent down and offered a hand, which Lance quickly took. “Are you okay?”

Lance looked up at him, a warm, groggy smile adorning his face. “Keith—we did it. We are a good team.”

He squeezed their hands and Keith couldn’t stop the smile that erupted on his face. Lance’s eyes fluttered shut and he groaned quietly, going lax in the hold. Swallowing nervously, Keith picked him up and headed for the medbay. Lance felt so light, his body practically absent from Keith’s arms all together. Disgruntled by the notion, he held Lance closer and closer until Keith was nearly breathing through bloodied tuffs of hair when they arrived at the pods. It didn’t bother him, though; in fact, the scene seemed so distant and untrue that his brain couldn’t comprehend it. 

The day was long. Keith knew Lance’s injuries were severe and that he needed time in the healing pod, but it seemed to drag out longer than the first time. There was also the itching guilt in his mind sprouted from the fact that he had been unable to protect Lance despite knowing an explosion would happen. It felt too similar to his inability to protect Shiro from the Galra, a fact that still haunted him late at night. This time was somehow worse with Lance having tossed Keith out of the way of the blast, selflessly throwing himself in the fire without a second thought. Lance hadn’t lived through it previously to know the circumstances, but there had still been no hesitation in his actions. 

Keith spent most of his time sitting or pacing in front of the cryo-pod. His mind was consumed by the fight, and his thoughts kept returning to Lance’s bayard. The shot had been incredible, one that Keith didn’t think Lance would have been able to make with so little training. It wasn’t that Keith didn’t think Lance was capable—quite the opposite, really; Keith had enough experience to know that he could act on impulse and still make it out of a situation unharmed thanks to Lance’s quick shots. His aim had been impeccable though, and Keith was thoroughly impressed. Maybe their training had paid off more than either of them realized, their ability to work as a team progressing faster than the first time around. He felt weird about the notion, both pleased by it and uneasy with the deviation. It had the potential to benefit them, but the added unpredictability of the future could also blow up in their faces. 

At one point or another, the others fell into a discussion about time slices, stepping away from the cryo-pod in the process. Keith remained at his spot in front of the pod, watching closely. If this timeline/reality/universe—he really wished he knew what conditions he had been flung into—was close enough to the other, Lance would be exiting soon. 

As if on cue, the door to the healing pod opened and Lance stumbled out, swaying slightly. Keith uncrossed his arms and hesitantly reached out to hover over Lance’s shoulders as an offer of support. 

Lance blinked a few times, gathering his bearings. He caught Keith’s gaze and his face broke into a small smile.

Keith let out a shaky breath and returned the smile. “Hey there, sharpshooter.”

“Hey,” Lance said with a brief, relieved laugh. His eyes crinkled with affection. “You’re okay.”

“Yeah,” Keith said quietly. “Thanks to you. That was an amazing shot you made back there.”

Lance sucked in a breath as his eyes darted toward the ground. Keith waited for him to make some boastful comment, but it never came. The two stood in silence for a moment while Keith listened to the steady rhythm of Lance’s breaths. Eventually, he took a step forward, forcing Keith to rest his hands on Lance’s shoulders. Carefully, as though handling glass, Lance looped his arms around Keith’s waist and tugged him close. Keith squeezed Lance’s shoulders and dropped his hands to graze over Lance’s back unsurely, his touch light and subdued. Lance didn’t seem bothered by the contact, though, as he rested his head sideways on Keith’s shoulder. His face brushed faintly against Keith’s neck, nothing more than a soft tickle. Keith closed his eyes tightly, not convinced he could deal with the combined magnitude of the touch and the sight. 

“Is everyone else okay?” Lance’s words were a hot breath on Keith’s skin.

“Yeah,” Keith said. He pulled back with reluctance. “We should let them know you’re okay.”

Lance nodded, releasing Keith. He tried not to be bothered by the loss of warmth, by the strange tingles that reverberated in his chest. He wondered how Lance could possibly be so warm after his time in the cryo-pod. 

Lance strolled over to the group. “You guys having a clock party?”

“Aw, Lance, you ruined it,” Hunk said. He froze and turned. “Hey, Lance!”

Lance grunted as he was swept up in a hug. “So what happened?”

“We can tell you all about it while you get something to eat,” Allura said, placing her hand on the small of Lance’s back. All that Keith could think was that his hand had just been there first, had already left its invisible print. “Are you able to walk?”

Lance shrugged. “Been doing so since I was a baby.”

Keith lingered by Lance’s side as everyone filled him in on Sendak’s condition and the main details of the fight. Lance didn’t say anything to him, prompting Keith to wonder if he had in fact, forgotten the bonding moment again. Keith balled his hands into fists, his chest pounding with groundless irritation and dread. He couldn’t bring himself to mention it in an attempt to gather a direct answer—not in front of everyone, not again. 

When Keith finally drew his attention back toward the group, Pidge was breaking into her speech about being a girl. He murmured some comment of awareness before sighing and announcing he was going to head to his room. He didn’t want to be around the others while this sickly, unwarranted concoction of negativity lurched around his insides. He wound up sitting on his bed, turning his knife over in his hands and wondering what, if anything, Lance remembered. 

Before long, the familiar alarm blared, alerting the others of Nyma and Rolo’s distress signal. Keith grimaced and headed back toward the control room in time to hear Allura refer to the Paladin Code. 

“We can’t land there,” Keith said.

Everyone turned to look at him curiously. Shiro, sharp as usual, looked concerned, as though he knew where Keith’s consistent distrust came from. Shiro was thinking of a place that was separate from reality, though, an existence so fast-paced and empty and stocked with people who inevitably left. It was one that stung, but was not the catalyst for Keith’s doubt—at least not this time around. Pidge, Lance and Coran looked a bit confused, while Hunk appeared validated. Allura just looked annoyed. 

Hunk raised a finger. “I agree with Keith. Let’s just keep heading toward Shay and her people.”

Allura sent a dirty look to Hunk before directing it at Keith. There went any of the progress he had made in attempting a friendly relationship with her; it seemed as though she had had enough of his cynicism and defensiveness. “Had you been here when I mentioned the Paladin Code—”

“I heard it,” Keith said, even though he knew interrupting her would only infuriate her further. There wasn’t time to dwell on the consequence, though; he would try to mend the relationship later. “I know we have to help everyone in need, but there’s no way to tell who’s _actually_ in need and who’s just pretending.”

There was a brief silence before Lance laughed. “Dude, you are so paranoid! Remember how weird you were about the Arusians? You know, the guys who threw us that awesome party?”

“Yeah, the awesome party where _you almost died from a Galra attack_ ,” Keith said hotly. 

Lance frowned and didn’t say anything. He rubbed his shoulder self-consciously. 

“Enough,” Allura said and turned away from them. “We are assisting them, and that is final.”

 

~

 

Keith hated the way Lance looked at Nyma, with optimistic and trusting eyes, an eager smile. Had she insisted she hung the moon, he probably would have believed her. And in a show of betrayal, she looked back at him with promises of candor and grandiosity, a sharp contradiction that Lance was too enamored to take note of. Keith tried to stay within a short distance of the two, but he didn’t want to seem intrusive. He knew the more he intervened, the more likely Lance was to take off with Nyma. The worst part of it all, though, was how Nyma looked at Keith. Her eyes were knowing and smug. What she knew, Keith wasn’t sure, but it was enough to know how to further manipulate the situation in her favor.

Beside him, Shiro and Hunk were quietly arguing over whether or not it was worth staying, a discussion that Keith remembered all too well. Maybe this time he could add in his opinion and sway Shiro toward leaving early, even if he hadn’t been able to when they were still on the Castle.

“Not for nothing, but I don’t trust this guy as far as I can throw him. We ought to leave him with the parts and just say, “Adiós, amigo.”,” Hunk said and crossed his arms.

Keith was about to chime in with words of agreement when Rolo interrupted the conversation: “Hey, bud! Sorry, but do you think you could hunt down a length of thermal pipe about yay long?”

Hunk groaned but started heading off. “On the way.”

Keith quickly caught up and walked beside him toward the ship. 

“Hunk,” Keith said. “I don’t trust these guys one bit, either.”

Hunk shot him a grateful look. “Thank you! I don’t know why the others are so quick to trust them when they’re clearly hiding information. Not to mention the fact that their story doesn’t hold up, and rescuing Shay is _way_ more important than fixing a ship that can wait like, five minutes, because it’s obviously not going anywhere if it’s broken.”

Keith stilled, prompting Hunk to do the same. He steadied a hand on Hunk’s shoulder and gave him a serious look. “Keep an eye on Rolo, okay? Don’t let him leave this planet for any reason. I’m going to go make sure Lance doesn’t do anything stupid with Nyma.”

Hunk snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. He’s looked smitten since the second we landed.”

Keith tried not to grimace. “Yeah. I’ll let you get back to work.”

He turned to search for the two and only narrowly noticed Lance pulling Nyma by the arm toward the ship. The two were giggling under their breath, eyes locked in agreement. Keith grabbed hold of Lance’s free arm. It felt like a grim game of tug-o-war, and from the second Keith latched on, he knew he had already lost.

“Lance.”

Lance looked over and frowned. His cheeks were flushed, either from exertion or exhilaration or both; Keith didn’t want to know. He looked _so alive_ in comparison to the day before, when he was little more than a pale, limp body and a slowed heartbeat. The polarity made Keith’s stomach churn, and he wanted so badly to let Lance discover small pockets of enjoyment in the otherwise ruthless job. But this one was a cleverly disguised sabotage, a ball of dirt polished to look like a glossy apple, and Lance was about to take an enormous bite. “What, Keith? Can’t you see that I’m a little busy?”

“Where are you two going?”

“Relax,” Lance said and he shot an enthusiastic look to Nyma, who returned it easily. Keith had never felt more like a third wheel in his life. “I’m just going to give Nyma a quick tour of the Castle.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Keith said. “We should stay here while the ship gets fixed.”

“Lighten up, will you?” Lance tugged his arm free and continued toward the Castle. “Go help Hunk and Rolo orsomething. I’ll be back before the ship is ready.”

“I’m coming with you,” Keith said and matched their speed.

Lance looked furious. “What the cheese, Keith! I don’t need a chaperone!”

Nyma watched the two of them, face expressionless. She let Lance guide her movements and Keith hated it, hated that her plan was working and that they both knew it. 

“Shiro’s orders,” Keith said because he knew Lance wouldn’t have it in him to fight about that. It would mean interrupting his ‘date’ to go verify the claim with Shiro, and Lance was clearly eager to head into the Castle, or probably really anywhere so long as Nyma accompanied him.

Lance rolled his eyes and sped past Keith. “Whatever, Mullet. Try to keep up.”

It was an awkward tour; Lance continuously hurried ahead with Nyma, forcing Kieth into a perpetual near jogging state. Nyma got flirtier as time progressed and Lance was left with a permanent, flushed grin. He was unmistakably pleased with the by-product of the tour.

And Keith hated Lance—he really did. He had spent no more than five seconds glancing out the ship to check on Rolo, and suddenly Lance and Nyma were nowhere to be seen. Keith grit his teeth together and made a mad dash to the hangers, knowing Lance would have taken the opportunity to show Nyma his Lion. He reached the area just in time to watch Blue fly off.

“Argh, Lance!” Keith hurried to Red, firing him up and shooting off toward the planet Lance had been stranded on last time. He only hoped they would land there again. Nyma was smart, but not capable of reading minds as far as Keith knew, so she had no way of knowing that he was privy to her plan.

Halfway there, his comm crackled to life: “Uh, Keith?”

“Hunk?”

Hunk sighed into the comm. “Rolo just took off.”

“What! I told you not to let him!”

“I tried! Shiro got all angry that I was blocking him though! I got lectured for you, man. _Lectured_ by Space Dad!” Keith didn’t really see the big deal; he had been lectured by Shiro dozens of times, and his technique of pretending to listen had proved to be decidedly effective. He’d have to teach Hunk the method later.

“This is a mess,” Keith said with a groan. “Lance took off, too.”

“With Nyma?”

“Who else,” Keith said bitterly. “I’m going after them.”

“Got it,” Hunk said. “And…sorry I couldn’t stop Rolo.”

Keith brushed him off. “Shiro’s stubborn. It’s whatever. That’s not important right now. Let the team know what’s going on—I’m sending you the coordinates of where I’m headed.”

What _was_ important was stopping Nyma before Rolo arrived to take Blue. The flight was short and soon Keith was approaching a familiar looking moon. Keith landed on the planet, his eyes searching for Lance. He saw the two of them standing by the tree that was likely to soon be holding Lance. In a flash, Nyma had cuffed him to it, Lance’s expression flying into one of startled confusion. Rolo’s ship hovered over top, in position to nab Blue.

“Oh no you don’t!” Keith shot three consecutive blasts, damaging the left side of the ship and preventing it from picking up either Blue or Nyma. The ship made a pained, creaking noise but managed to stay airborne. Keith flew up toward it and latched onto to its top before dragging it lower into the atmosphere and submission. 

The others arrived soon after and immediately went to deal with Rolo and Nyma. Hunk caught Keith’s gaze and offered him a thumbs up. Keith smiled faintly back and nodded. He would make a point to thank Hunk later for making an attempt to hinder Rolo’s escape. Even if the two hadn’t been successful in stopping the encounter in the first place, it had gone more smoothly. At the very least, he hadn’t needed to fly through an asteroid belt—even if it had been rather fun. Maybe he could convince Shiro to let him practice in one during training. But first he had to deal with Lance. And sure enough, Lance sat at the tree, wearing a scowl. Keith approached him silently. 

Lance looked at him, eyes weary and resigned. “Go on, then.”

Keith couldn’t look him in the eyes. “What?”

“You were right,” Lance said with a huff, and he sounded so defeated. “It wasn’t a good idea. Nyma didn’t like me—she just wanted Blue. I was just being stupid thinking that someone like her could ever like someone like me. So go on—gloat about it.”

Keith said nothing as he undid the restraints. There _wasn’t_ anything to say—not anything that would make either of them feel better in the moment or benefit the situation. He supposed even without meaning to, though, his silence said enough. He offered his hand to Lance, who eyed it with skepticism. Finally, he sighed and accepted it. Keith pulled him to his feet.

“Come on,” Keith said. “Let’s get back to the ship.”

Lance didn’t respond, but he held on.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey, Keith,” Shiro said.

Keith glanced up from the Gladiator he was fighting. He wanted to try to get in some training before returning to Balmera. The days had been busy, and it was nice to unwind a bit with his bayard. Lance had been pretty quiet and given him a muttered “No thanks” when Keith had offered to continue their training. Maybe he was still upset about the Nyma fiasco. Maybe tomorrow would be better—for everyone. 

“End simulation. What’s up, Shiro? Did you need anything?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said, but he seemed like he was struggling to sound composed. “I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

Keith wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. It did little to assuage the problem considering that the sweat then just gathered on his glove. He retracted his bayard as he headed over to where Shiro was awkwardly lingering near the doorway. It was weird. “Is everything okay?”

“That’s what I wanted to make sure,” Shiro said, his words careful. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Keith frowned. “That’s kind of a risk we all accepted when we became Paladins. Look—I’m trying not to just jump into action as often. I’ll be better, okay?”

Shiro shook his head and sat down on the steps, urging Keith to do the same. Shiro ran his hand through the tips of his bangs. “That’s not what I mean by hurt. Keith, I’ve known you for a while and this is all…very new when it comes to you. Normally I’d have no problem talking to you about all this and even encouraging it, but things are considerably different around here.”

“We _are_ in a ship in outer space that holds flying, fighting cats,” Keith agreed. 

His stomach flopped with unease, though; was Shiro implying that he wasn’t fit to be a Paladin? The notion stung more than he thought possible. He had all the knowledge from his past fights and of all the newer ones, supposedly giving him an upper hand when it came to surprise attacks and Voltron’s gaps of Galra understanding. The thought of still being incapable after all that was harrowing. Shiro had never said anything before, though; had something changed? Was his knowledge actually hindering him more than it was helping him? 

“I’m really bad at this,” Shiro admitted with a laugh. “It’s just…I see how you look at Lance.”

Keith furrowed his eyebrows; that was not at all where he was expecting the conversation to turn. He rubbed his neck, trying to think of an answer. “Like he’s an idiot?”

“Like he’s an idiot but you love him anyway,” Shiro said.

Keith blinked, stunned into silence.

Shiro rested a sympathetic hand on Keith’s shoulder. “I’m not opposed to it, I’m really not. I’m fully on board with the idea of you dating someone, especially someone who seems to understand you so well. But we’re in war, and things are strained. I just don’t want anything to happen where you end up being hurt by him but still stuck in space around him. We have a solid crew going, but there are so few of us. It’d be impossible to avoid him, really.”

Keith carefully peeled Shiro’s hand off his shoulder once he finally found his voice. “Shiro, I don’t think you understand. Lance and I aren’t dating.”

“Yet,” Shiro said softly. “But Keith. You stare at him like you really want to be.”

Keith swallowed and looked down at his hands, the same hands that had reached out to Lance so many times before, strategically placed on shoulders and biceps for comfort and assent that Keith knew how to convey only through touch, the same hands that were nearly shaking now at the memories. He didn’t know how to respond to the accusation, how to assure Shiro that it was so far from the truth that it was almost laughable—but then was it really, though? His feelings for Lance were certainly stronger than Lance’s feelings for him, but if only because he still held all the memories of them working together, fighting together, laughing together, being together. It was a stare bursting with nostalgia and sadness, of want for lost experiences and different circumstances. But did those circumstances really mean the two of them dating?

He wasn’t sure why Shiro had focused Lance in particular, not when Keith was friendly enough with the others on the ship. He was already close to Shiro, was kind to Allura—mostly in hopes of reducing future tension when his Galra past showed up, but also because he did enjoy her company—and endured Coran’s enthusiastic Altean history lectures, could connect with Pidge over their mutual distrust and ire over the Kerberos mission, and could bond with Hunk over just about anything with how easygoing and likable the guy was. And perhaps he and Lance didn’t have anything in common beyond their bullheaded competitiveness and strong personalities, at least for the time being. But he was trying, was making a veritable effort to better restrain himself from falling into the predictable and easier route of instigating fights. Instead, he tried to play to their strengths by finding complementary differences between the two of them that they could build upon.

And sure, he offered short smiles and sometimes even a laugh or two, but he didn’t think it was much different than when he did the same for any of the others.

“I don’t…it’s _Lance_.”

“I didn’t even really consider it at first,” Shiro said. “It seemed so out of place with how you guys fought, but you two have a history from the Garrison, don’t you? And you two worked closely with Hunk and Pidge to rescue me. Look, I’m just saying that you look at him in a way that I’ve never seen you look at anyone else. You’re an adult, though; I trust your judgment. I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Yeah,” Keith rasped, not wanting to say much more. Maybe he did look at Lance in a manner he had never looked at anyone else in, but he had never met anyone quite like Lance, so cocky but hesitant, assertive but open-minded. He maintained a captivating pull that both drew Keith in and repelled him, sometimes simultaneously. At times he appeared as no more than a fragmented concept, seemingly so unreachable. Keith wondered if Lance had ever viewed him that way; a distant figure at the Garrison who existed only in glimpses and ranks. Reaching for so much as a stare or conversation that culminated in falling back to the ground, empty handed and flustered from the endeavor but still wanting more. “Thanks.”

Shiro nodded. “I’m here for you, Keith.”

“Ditto,” Keith said quietly, his thoughts fading into the background. Obstinately, small wisps of Lance lingered—a snapshot of his eyes, the beginnings of a brash smile, the curl of his long fingers on Keith’s shoulders, wrists, waist. Lance, a reminder of a once steady, constant presence that suddenly felt so vulnerable and defenseless, slipping through Keith’s hands as he sat. A lump caught in his throat. “I’m…just going to head to my room.”

“I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”

“Thanks,” Keith said and didn’t stop running until he was safely behind closed doors. 

He laid on his bed, staring up at the dull ceiling and thinking of his old team. He wondered if he had looked at Lance then, too, only to narrowly avoid an identical conversation from Shiro through pure luck in timing. Or was there something different about this Lance, or perhaps even something different about this him? He didn’t like the idea of Lance being a different person, because he had invested so much emotion into establishing a tentative friendship with _his_ Lance, and now suddenly he was on edge and not sure how to react to Lance, how Lance would react to him. Maybe it had always been like that, though, with Keith unsure but fortunate enough to cherry-pick the right paths, the ones that ultimately led him to Lance and Lance alone.

…

He shifted onto his side and focused on the wall, swallowing down the miserable emotions that clawed at his throat. He knew it was stupid, missing his team when they were but a few rooms away. It was decidedly different, though; Keith knew that now. Maybe this Lance was just like his Lance, because in the end it was just. _Lance_. Maybe he was the same in all universes, only the situations themselves different. The thought didn’t comfort him. He mulled over the idea of talking to Coran, who perhaps had seen this before or knew something about it. Keith figured Coran would have mentioned it if he had, but then again there was really no reason for him to assume it had happened to anyone on the team.

But he didn’t want to jeopardize anything in the process. He knew Coran was trustworthy, but the universe was fickle and unforgiving; he hadn’t learned the full extent until he woke up in his Garrison uniform two years after he had dropped out, however. He shut his eyes, the action mostly senseless in the already darkened room. He didn’t want to be reminded of his existence at the moment, though, content to feign unconsciousness and avoid the heavy feeling in his chest.

A flurry of knocks jolted him awake. 

He blinked a few times, refocusing his gaze and groaning at the cotton taste in his mouth. The sound came out raspy, and he swallowed pointedly. 

“Keith?”

“Come in,” he croaked. 

The door whooshed open to show a surprised Shiro. “Did I wake you?”

Keith shrugged and sat up, leaning against the wall. He had fallen asleep over the covers and in his clothes, so he didn’t feel too vulnerable despite his drowsy state. 

“I was just going to let you know that dinner was ready.” Shiro paused, soaking up the scene before him. “Are you okay?”

“What?”

Shiro sat down on the edge of the bed. “If it was what I said earlier…I didn’t mean to push you.”

“No, no,” Keith said vaguely. “It’s fine.”

“If it’s not that, then…” Shiro trailed off, waiting.

Keith averted his gaze. He picked at his blanket. “It’s not—there’s not anything, okay?”

“Keith,” Shiro said. His tone was stern, but protective. “I know you. I know when there’s something bothering you. Like I said, I’m not going to push you, but you don’t have to lie to me. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Keith said softly.

“Things are pretty crazy right now,” Shiro said. And that was quite the understatement. “And there’s a lot being asked of us all, but you don’t need to be strong all the time. It’s okay to take some time to deal with your emotions and figure yourself out. It’s not going to break Voltron.”

“…” Keith shifted and looked over at Shiro, who smiled gently. And it hurt, sharp pains in his chest that were like stab wounds. There was Shiro, his friend, his mentor, his brother in all definitions but blood, but was it him? It simultaneously was and wasn’t, a contradiction wrapped up in confusion and nostalgia like a present; happy birthday to him.

Shiro waited patiently.

“Yeah, I…” Keith sucked in a breath. “I just missed you. It’s been a while. It was rough, I guess.”

“Oh, Keith.” And normally he would have despised the sympathetic and unintentionally patronizing tone, but he was too tired and dejected to care. The weight of it all sat menacingly on his shoulders, daring him to misstep, maybe even encouraging it just to watch him collapse. “Come here.”

“Shiro…”

Shiro engulfed him in a warm, familiar hug. Keith clung to the back of his shirt, needing to memorize the sensation in case he lost Shiro again—what time would that be? The fourth? Fifth? At what point did his luck run out and there was no more finding Shiro, only discoveries of vast and empty fields of space that had once enraptured Keith but now exclusively plagued his nightmares? “I missed you, too.”

“I told you not to go on that stupid mission,” Keith said. He felt the beat of Shiro’s heart, a firm assurance of his presence. The gnawing feeling in his chest didn’t recede, though, instead content to spread its incredulity elsewhere. How many second chances was one man allowed?

Shiro laughed. “I guess you did. It’ll be okay, Keith. It always ends up okay.”

And Keith really, really wanted to allow himself to believe that.

 

~

 

“We’ll be arriving at Balmera soon,” Allura announced the next morning. “Liberating these Balmerans from Zarkon’s grasp will not be easy.”

“So, what’s the plan? We go in there and just…pow, pow, pow! And free the prisoners?” Lance gave a proud smile as though his words alone had liberated the Balmerans—show was over, everyone could go home and the Lance-parade could begin. 

Keith crossed his arms. “Those were the worst laser gun noises I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey! Like you could do any better!”

Keith cleared his throat. “Pew, pew, pew!”

“Oh, please,” Lance said and rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Hunk, tell him mine were better!”

“You’re both wrong, actually,” Hunk said. Lance gasped at the traitorous words and Keith hid a smile. “I think you guys mean…Pow!”

“That sounds like fireworks!”

“Technically,” Pidge said. “They’re more like…ba-choo, ba-choo, ba-choo!”

“Okay,” Shiro said. “Enough with the bad sound effects. Besides, it’s more like…blam, blam, blam!”

“What?”

“You’re crazy,” Pidge added.

“No way,” Lance said, nudging Keith in agreement. He sent him a “can-you-believe-this-guy?” expression and Keith’s lips quirked up slightly. He relished in the warmth that radiated from Lance, who strangely enough didn’t bother to pull away after bumping Keith’s shoulder with his own. His armor was flush against the other boy’s, so close their reds and blues seemed to merge into purple. 

“Wrong,” Hunk said decisively.

Allura scowled. “Paladins, focus!”

Keith stayed quiet until Shiro instructed him to attack the mining rigs. He latched onto the opportunity to change the plans. “What if we can’t flush the Galra out? And they just stay down there?”

“We don’t really have another option,” Shiro said. “Besides, I think they’ll want to do something about us destroying their machines.”

“It could be a trap,” Keith said. The details were hazy, but he remembered Shay being used to lure them down deep into the mines and the Balmera nearly dying in the process. 

Hunk interrupted, “So what, we just don’t even bother trying? We just let Shay and her people continue suffering at the hands of the Galra because we might encounter a trap?”

Keith faltered. It sounded so much worse when Hunk put it like that. “I just…”

“That’s pretty cold, bro,” Hunk said, his own tone icy. 

Lance crossed his arms and gave a hesitant frown, finally pulling away from Keith either from realization of their close proximity or distaste for Keith’s supposed disregard for the Balmera. Regardless, it felt like rejection. “Yeah, man. What if it was you down there?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Keith said with a sigh. “We should just…be ready with a backup plan.”

“We will be,” Shiro promised. “Now let’s get out there.”

The fight was like a blur. Keith registered vague portions of it, of Pidge dropping the sensors, Red shooting a burst of fire, Lance complaining about it only to find his own elemental powers. Keith didn’t realize he was even going through the motions until a strong hand jerked him backwards and out of his mind. He blinked and looked up at Lance with a perplexed expression. 

“Don’t give me that look!” Lance said. “You were about to run in there like a psycho!”

“There are only a few sentries,” Keith said flatly, though he hadn’t actually meant to run straight into the battle. He couldn’t even remember when he had exited Red.

“Yeah, but the Balmera thing is a sensitive animal, remember?” Lance crouched next to Keith and eyed him warily. “What’s up with you, man?”

“What?”

Lance sat down and said quietly, “You’ve been out of it all day.”

“Out of what?” Keith asked. 

Lance made a frustrated sound. “Of—of yourself, I don’t know. You’ve been way quieter than normal.”

“I’m fine,” Keith said shortly. He was getting tired of trying to convince people of that, and maybe that should have been a red flag. But he was the Red Paladin after all, so maybe that was his thing. “We need to focus on the mission.”

“Right, the mission,” Lance said dully. He let out a long sigh and sent Keith a look, one that made Keith avert his eyes in discomfort. “A convenient excuse.”

Keith bristled. And since when did he care what Keith was doing so long as it didn’t hinder Lance’s ability to brag or flirt? “What are you talking about? We’re Paladins of Voltron, Lance! The mission is more important than any one individual!”

“I get it,” Lance said, but his voice was cold, distant. The lines of his face suddenly seemed so sharp. Keith wasn’t sure how he had messed up, but he was rather certain he had. “Let’s go—we can sneak into the control room to shut down the bay doors. That’ll trap the ships in.”

Keith followed after him. “Fine.”

The two were mostly quiet until Lance was tasked with actually closing the bay doors. He tapped on random buttons and grimaced at the complexity of the foreign technology. “I don’t know what I’m doing here. It’s all Galra gibberish.”

Keith sighed and scooted over. “Let me see.”

With great reluctance, he placed his hand over the scanner. He looked away as it accepted his identity and began closing the doors.

“Whoa!” Lance said. “How’d you do that?”

“I just put my hand on it,” Keith said in a terse voice. 

Lance sent him a confused, concerned look which Keith pointedly ignored. 

“Paladins, are you there? The Galra troops are moving down the tunnels. It looks like they’re going down toward the center,” Allura said. 

“They must be headed to the core of the Balmera,” Hunk said, tone grave. “That’s where they’re holding Shay.”

“They’re drawing us into an ambush,” Shiro said. “But we don’t have a choice if we want to save Shay. We have to follow. Lance, Keith, get to the core. I think we’re going to need everyone together to get through this firefight.”

“Copy that,” Lance said. He looked at Keith nervously and mouthed ‘you good?’

Keith nodded.

“We’re on our way,” Lance said, his eyes never leaving Keith. 

The fight was long, and Keith found himself drifting in and out of awareness again. He was able to fight, but by the end of it he hardly remembered more than bits and pieces. It had been enough to leave an impression on Lance, apparently, who cornered Keith once they returned to the castle.

“So what was that?”

Keith sighed. “What was what, Lance?”

“That thing back there,” Lance said. “With the bay doors.”

Keith stiffened. He was hoping that question wouldn’t be asked, especially not by Lance. Truth be told, Keith hardly wanted to even know himself that he was Galra, let alone anyone else. He and Lance weren’t…exactly friends in this universe, either. When it came down to it, he didn’t really know what they were. 

“It was nothing.”

Lance gave him a somber look. “I get that I’m not your first choice of people to talk to, but we’re a team now. I just—I thought since we were friends now…whatever. Never mind.”

“Wait,” Keith said. He grabbed Lance’s hand, stopping him. “You…we’re friends?”

Lance huffed. “I mean, I thought. You don’t make it easy to tell.”

Keith swallowed back a flutter of emotions. “I…yeah. Yeah, we’re friends.”

Lance gave him a weak smile. 

“I have to go,” Keith blurted out. He squeezed Lance’s hand on instinct and was surprised when Lance easily returned the gesture. “I need to talk to Coran. But…it’s just something I’m dealing with. I need some more time alone.”

“Okay,” Lance said with a nod. “I’m here for you, though, buddy.”

Keith smiled. “Yeah.”

He dropped his grip and watched Lance head off, his hands in his pockets and mouth whistling a low tune. With a sigh, Keith headed for the control room and hoped Coran would be there.

He was, and Keith felt relief wash over him. “Hey, Coran.”

“Ahh, number four. What is it?”

Keith scratched under his ear, a nervous tick. “Err, what can you tell me about alternate realities?”

Coran blinked. “Well, plenty, I suppose. What did you want to know? You’re certainly not to go digging around in wormholes if that’s what you’re after.”

“No, it’s not,” Keith said. God knew he wanted nothing to do with different realities at this point. “Just…what would it mean to be in one? Would you just…stop existing in your actual reality if you stayed in the other one too long?”

Coran rubbed his mustache thoughtfully. “Hmm, that’s quite the doozy of a question. I assume there would just be two of you in the alternate reality. I don’t think you would stop existing in your actual reality, not completely. All your past actions and the memories of those who knew you would still exist, even if you weren’t physically there.”

“But what if there weren’t two of me? Would…could you switch places or something?”

“I don’t see why not,” Coran said easily. “Though I’ve never heard of anything like that happening. Your questions are quite the stumpers, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“What brought all this on?”

Keith glanced around the room; it was quiet and empty save for them. For all he knew, though, Hunk was hiding around the corner with a tablet or the mice were slyly burrowed in a whittled down crevice. But they were the most opportune conditions he could justifiably demand while restricted to the ship. “Coran, can I talk to you about something? You have to _promise_ that you won’t tell anyone else, though. Not even Allura.”

Coran frowned. “My loyalties lie with her, I’m afraid. If there’s something wrong, she needs to be aware of it.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Keith lied. “And it’s not about her, it’s about me.”

“Oh?”

“I…” He took a deep breath. “I think that maybe I’m not from this reality.”

He almost expected laughter or a quick dismissal, simply because he was aware of how insane it all sounded. Instead, Coran was looking at him thoughtfully, considering the words and weighing his response. “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve been here before,” Keith said. “This is the second time I’ve become a Paladin of Voltron—the second time I’ve lived through all of this. The training, leaving Arus, visiting Balmera. I think…this is a reality in the past or something, I don’t know. I can’t make sense of it. Maybe I’ve gone back in time. I guess that isn’t any crazier of a theory than alternate realities.”

“The second time you’ve done this…” Coran thought for a moment. “What exactly is it that you know? How much of the future have you lived through?”

Keith bit his lip. “Just up until today.”

He didn’t _want_ to lie to Coran, but he knew if he told the truth that Coran would go to Allura. And what would the others think of him keeping everything from them? The more everyone knew, though, the more that everything could go wrong. There were too many variables, and Keith could barely keep track of the ones he already had. It felt safer leaving them in the dark, as though their ignorance would be their saving grace at one point or another.

“I see.”

“I wanted to say something,” Keith said, because he suddenly felt as though he had done something horribly wrong. “But I wasn’t sure what was going on, if it was just a really realistic dream or something. I tried to fix what I could, really. But not much changed.”

Coran let out a breath. “Well, I’m afraid there’s nothing much we can do, in that case. I certainly wish you had said something earlier.”

Keith looked down. “Sorry.”

He felt a warm hand on his head and looked up. Coran ruffled his hair gently and offered him a small smile. “It’s quite all right, number four. I understand.”

“I just…I want to get back to my world,” Keith said in a quiet voice. “Things are similar here but they’re not the same.”

It was like looking in a funhouse mirror, the image still the same but its shape distorted and unfamiliar, just similar enough that it left a jarring, uneasy feeling that persisted far beyond the room.

“This very well may be your world, just in the past,” Coran admitted. “You said it all seemed familiar, right? What was different?”

Keith grimaced. “What I changed.”

“Ahh,” Coran said and gave him a sad smile. “Then I’m afraid your theory of time traveling seems to be the most likely explanation. I can’t think of any such reality which would be exactly the same.”

“I should have done more. Why me? I couldn’t even fix anything,” Keith said, tone bitter. Everything had stayed the same but everyone was different—everyone was different and it was _his_ fault. He could have had his team back, but he ruined it; he changed them irrevocably but couldn’t manage to change so much as a mission’s outcome. Bile eagerly climbed his throat and his voice raised: “Sending me back was just a waste. All I did was mess things up.”

“It couldn’t have been all a waste,” Coran said. “You must have learned something.”

“I learned there’s never enough time,” Keith said eventually. 

“I would see it as a blessing!” Coran said. “You humans have such short lifespans. But you were given a chance to increase yours. Shame it ended today—you could have really made a difference.”

“Yeah. Shame.”

 

~

 

Keith resolved to not make any more changes to the timeline, a promise which lasted all of two seconds before he disregarded it. He couldn’t let himself sit back and let his team get hurt when he knew how to avoid captures and injuries. Even if the time travel wasn’t a factor, his impulsive nature wouldn’t allow for it. All the trauma that the team had already been put through was like a cruel reminder to Keith of his responsibility and apparent inability to fix it all. There were constant memories that flooded him and replayed in his mind. No matter what, though, doing anything would be better than nothing.

He just wished he realized that before the castle had turned on them and left him in almost the same exact position as before, only just barely reaching Lance in time. After his talk with Coran, he had spent a few hours wandering the halls and taking in the atmosphere of the castle ship. A part of him wanted to memorize every inch and step of the base so that the memories would remain no matter where he wound up. 

He could only wander aimlessly for so long, though, before he found himself bored. He had been heading for the training deck when he heard the screams. Rounding the corner and jogging toward the source, he spotted Lance stuck in the airlock. The Blue Paladin banged his fists against the front while he screamed about being sucked out into space; the ominous computer voice counted down from twenty.

Lance’s eyes lit up softly. “Keith!”

Keith slammed his hand down on the button and the doors burst open. Lance tumbled out, his legs unsteady from the speed of his escape. Keith held his hands up in front of his chest. “Whoa, there.”

“Thank God,” Lance said and took a deep, scared breath. “Thank you, Keith.”

Keith instinctively took hold of Lance’s bicep, feeling a need to ground him. “What was that all about?”

“I think…” Lance calmed his breathing down and looked at Keith with a serious expression. “I think the castle’s trying to kill me.”

Memory returning, Keith unintentionally squeezed Lance’s arm. It had been a blessing that he hadn’t quite made it to the training deck. Lance was safe either way, but Keith had a feeling both of them were content with the airlock not opening in the first place. Not to mention the Gladiator had roughed him up more than he was comfortable with in the other world. He could stand the dull ache of working out—even welcomed it, at times—but would rather keep his distance from situations in which he was tossed across the floor like a puppet. 

Lance winced. “Oww, dude.”

Keith blinked and loosened his grip. Sheepishly, he dropped his hand and stepped backwards. “Oh, sorry. We…we should go find Allura.”

“And Coran,” Lance said, eyeing Keith’s quickly imposed distance. “I bet they’ll know what’s going on. Do you… think this was another test? Were we supposed to get in our Lions and fight back?”

“No,” Keith said and shook his head firmly. “They wouldn’t do that. Not to this degree. There’s something wrong with the castle.”

“Yeah.” Lance said, frowning. “I was worried about that.”

“We have to find Allura,” Keith repeated. “She’s the only one who can get us out of here.”

Lance looked confused, but he seemed to accept Keith’s vague assertion for once and they started toward Allura. Halfway to the control room, they bumped into Coran, who greeted them with a smile. 

“Well, hello boys. What’s got the two of you in such a hurry?”

“Coran,” Keith said, panting. “The castle—there’s something wrong with it. We need to tell Allura.”

“Now, now,” Coran said. “There must be a misunderstanding.”

Lance stopped them, one hand raised as a silencer. “Do you guys hear that?”

The three turned to look to the closet door, where sounds of annoyance and effort were only barely seeping through. Lance opened the door in time to watch Pidge and Hunk fall to the ground, both producing grunts of pain. Pidge sat up and tried to fix her glasses. Hunk made no effort to move from his position on the floor, defeated.

“How can you guys be taking a nap while this castle is trying to kill us?” 

Hunk sat up at that. “Taking a nap? We’ve been floating around in Zero G! You know how scary that is?”

“That’s not scary! That’s fun! I was almost ejected into space!” Lance sent Keith a look at that, his eyes still uneasy, but appreciative. Keith looked away, his heart stuttering at the intensity Lance’s gaze. 

“Well I got attacked by killer food, and that’s the most horrifying thing you can imagine! The stuff of nightmares! It’ll haunt me to my grave!” Hunk scrambled to his feet and dusted off his knees.

“I don’t care what you say, Coran,” Lance said and turned to face him. “This castle has gone apples and bananas! I was almost sucked out into space!”

Coran groaned. “Perhaps the infection from Sendak’s Galra crystal is worse than we thought.”

When they reached Allura in the control room, she was entranced with King Alfor, just as Keith had feared. There were no signs of a wormhole yet, though, so there was still time to avoid crashing into the supernova. 

“The crystal must have corrupted King Alfor’s artificial intelligence!” Coran said. “It’s taking over!”

“Allura!” Keith called. “You can’t listen to him!”

She turned toward him with a perplexed expression. “What do you mean, Keith?”

“You’re stronger than this, Allura,” he insisted. Her eyes flickered between him and her father’s projection, split. “Look past the disguise.”

“Nonsense,” King Alfor said. “I can take you home, Allura.”

“He’s lying!” Lance yelled, grabbing Keith’s hand. Keith flustered a bit, caught off guard, but offered a supportive squeeze. 

Allura blinked. “Is this real?”

“Of course it is real, daughter. That flower you’re touching is real.”

Coran hurried forward. “But where is the fragrance of the sweet juniberries?”

Allura sniffed. “Huh?”

“We must head toward Altea,” King Alfor said. His voice had morphed into a distorted, low version. Static crackled throughout and his image trembled in and out of view. “Don’t you see, dear daughter? Zarkon can never be defeated. He’s been ruling for ten thousand years. You don’t have to live a lifetime of war. You can be with me and the rest of your people.”

“Father!” Allura scrunched up her nose. She took an uneasy step backwards. “The paladins and I can still stop Zarkon! Somewhere in there, you must want that to happen.”

“Allura,” King Alfor said. “My A.I. has been corrupted. You must disconnect my power source.”

“Father…”

It was painful, knowing Allura had to destroy the memories of her father. Keith couldn’t help but feel a bit responsible for it. He averted his gaze once she returned to the control room, letting the others comfort her. Lance slipped his hand out of Keith’s awkwardly, the atmosphere now wrong. Keith flexed his fingers, feeling an emptiness erupt from them. 

After some time, Shiro stood up and looked out of the room, likely prepared to return to Sendak’s memories. Before Shiro could exit, Keith caught up with him. 

“Hey,” he said. “I…need to talk to you.”

Shiro nodded. “Everything got a little crazy back there. Are you okay?”

Keith ignored the question. “Your arm…that they made. I think there might be some information in it.”

“What?”

“I just, I have a feeling,” Keith said, but he felt his voice wavering. “I mean, I searched for you for a _year_ and then suddenly you made your way back to Earth? I think that someone helped you escape, and they may have left you some information about it in your arm.”

“Keith,” Shiro said slowly. “That’s a heck of a claim you’re making. The only ones who dealt with my arm were Galra…and you can’t possibly think that one of them helped me escape, can you?”

Keith looked at the floor. 

Shiro let out a heavy sigh. “I want to defeat Zarkon as much as you do, but we have to think about this rationally. The Galra empire has enslaved and killed millions; they had no reason to help me.”

Allura took a step forward. “What’s all this about the Galra empire?”

“Nothing, Princess,” Keith said quickly. His heart thumped.

Shiro looked at him oddly. “Keith had a theory about possible information.”

Allura clapped her hands together. “Splendid! What is it?”

The others crowded around, now interested in the commotion. Keith felt like he couldn’t breathe, stuck frozen in his lie. Shiro sent him a pointed look, waiting for him to speak. Lance began to move toward him, but Keith didn’t think he could handle that, so he started talking.

“His arm,” Keith said, tone flat. 

At everyone’s confused expressions, he shrugged, not wanting to elaborate. The less he said, the less it looked like he knew. It seemed a bit counterproductive, but in actuality he had no reason for knowing such information, or even really suspecting it. Pidge was more of the kind of person to speculate on those types of theories, and he knew it would look suspicious if he had thought of it before her. Not that he didn’t already look suspicious enough. He felt practically on trial from the stares the others were shooting his way. 

“He thinks there might be some kind of information in it,” Shiro elaborated.

Allura frowned. “Well, now that’s just silly. Why would the Galra willingly relinquish their information to the enemy?”

“You’re right,” Keith said. “It was stupid. We should just—”

“Hold on,” Pidge said, and Keith knew that look; she was convinced. And once Pidge was convinced, there was little that would or even _could_ stand in her way. Keith felt a combination of relief and dread. If nothing else, the early analysis could prevent Allura’s capture and the team’s separation in wormholes. It was worth it in the end, even if it meant Keith was teetering on the brink of spilling his secrets and ruining every last meaningful relationship he had. “We may as well check, right? No harm in poking around a bit. It’s not like we have any other leads to follow up on.”

“I suppose,” Shiro said. He watched Keith curiously.

 

~

 

“I’m not finding any coordinates in here,” Pidge announced. “Sorry, Keith.”

Keith pursed his lips. Now that he had suggested the check, he figured he may as well go all out; the coordinates would be found sooner or later. “Check again.”

“This is unnecessary,” Allura argued. “You know you cannot trust the Galra.”

Keith swallowed and fixed his gaze on the wall. “They had to have been trusted once.”

The others went quiet. 

“What do you mean by that,” Allura said tersely. 

“Zarkon was the original Black Paladin, wasn’t he.”

Allura stiffened. “That was a long time ago.”

“Hold up, what?” Lance looked around the room as though searching for a definitive, tangible answer. 

“Allura,” Hunk said slowly. “Is this true?”

“Shiro is the Black Paladin now, not Zarkon,” Allura said. She narrowed her eyes. “And how would you know about that?”

“That would be me!” Coran interjected, tugging on his mustache nervously. “I told him about some of the history of Voltron when he asked. I’m sorry, Princess; I didn’t realize it would cause such a riff.”

Keith sent him a grateful look. He dug his nails into his palms and glanced back at the others, who watched him closely, but at a safe distance. 

“Keith, buddy,” Lance said eventually and reached out a hand, resigning himself to an uncertain fate and entering the realm of Keith’s space, one that no longer fit the mold the others had so painstakingly built for him; an orphan, hot-heated, impulsive, a Hell of a pilot, and 100% as ignorant to Zarkon as the four other Paladins were, a fact almost uniting in its humanity. Once upon a time Keith would have clung to the title, but there was no point now when it had slipped from his fingers so long ago already. 

“Wait a second,” Pidge said. Lance’s hand stilled and was quickly retracted. The icy emptiness between them flooded Keith, so much sharper and more unbearable than before, his last tie to the others snapping with such resonance that it audibly echoed in his head. For the first time since his return to the past, he wanted to go back again; he wanted to make proper changes this time around. “I think I see it now. Some repeating numbers in all this Galra code. Let me extract it…they are coordinates! They lead here: the Thaldycon system.”

“Then, that’s where we’re headed,” Shiro said. He turned to Keith. “That was a solid suggestion you thought of, Keith.”

“Thanks,” Keith muttered. 

“I still don’t trust this,” Allura said.

“It’s worth the risk,” Shiro said. “Someone obviously helped me escape. If we can locate some allies in our fight against Zarkon, especially ones from his own side, we might just find a way to take him down.”

“We can check the location.” Allura’s tone was harsh. “But I do not like this. The Galra are not to be trusted.”

“Well, this is it,” Coran said as they all watched the screen. “No sign of any activity at all, living or otherwise.”

“There’s something there,” Keith insisted. “It just has to be hidden.”

“You seem rather sure of this all,” Allura said. 

Keith was almost glad to hear the castle alarm; he hadn’t had a good response to her implicit accusation. Seeing Ulaz again was weird, such a distant and blurred replication in his mind turned back into a sharp image in front of him. It felt like stumbling out of the fog, like bursting from the murky depths of a watery illusion. Ulaz stood in front of them all and silently removed his mask.

“Ulaz?”

“Who are you?” Allura demanded. She shoved him up against the castle wall. 

“Stop!” Shiro said. He held a hand to his forehead and winced. “I…I think this is the Galra who set me free.”

“You’ve come,” Ulaz said. 

Keith felt uneasy while Allura interrogated Ulaz. There was a steady drum in the back of his mind reminding him that Ulaz inevitably was another name on the list of those succumbing to Zarkon’s wrath be it from sacrifice, resistance, or resignation. There was more time now, though; they hadn’t been forced into wormholes. There was still time.

Always time—the only element that mattered, and the one Keith always needed more of. 

He watched the others go back and forth with Ulaz, their hesitance to trust him obvious. Keith unconsciously put a hand to his knife and wondered if he would have to go through the same trials just to awaken the blade. So far, it was still stubbornly asleep, which Keith didn’t think was quite fair considering he was still himself, albeit thrown into the past. 

Allura threw up her hands in frustration and turned to Keith with a heady scowl. “He has said nothing trustworthy. And you’ve led him to us! You’re working with the Galra, aren’t you?”

“Allura, calm down,” Shiro said firmly. “I’ve known Keith for a long time—it’s not like that.”

She crossed her arms. “He knows things only a Galra soldier should.”

“How would he be in contact with the Galra?” Hunk said. “That doesn’t make any sense. He went to the Garrison with us on Earth, and we all were sent into space together.”

“Yeah,” Lance added. “He’s weird, but not alien weird.”

“I know tensions are high right now,” Shiro said. “But accusing Keith of working with the enemy isn’t going to get us anywhere. He’s not working with the Galra—he has no connection to them whatsoever.”

Keith noted the unwelcome return of the sickly feeling that clung to his chest in thick clumps like mucus. Suddenly being sucked out of the airlock didn’t seem like such a horrible idea anymore.

“I don’t think they would accept anyone who wasn’t Galra,” Pidge decided, a finger to her chin in thought. “And Keith is clearly not Galra.”

“I…” Keith clenched his fists. Tears prickled at the dips of his eyes; he had wanted more time, more opportunities to bond with Allura and ignore his genetics. But he also knew lying would only make it all worse when the truth inevitably leaked—and it always did. “But I am.”

Lance’s face went blank. “Keith…?”

“My mother,” Keith whispered. 

Allura snapped, her patience visibly overworked from the stress of the situation and Keith’s confession. “I want him gone! Off this ship immediately! I am not interested in harboring any enemies!”

Pidge and Hunk stared at him in shock, their stature guarded and wary. Lance stood perfectly still, expression betraying nothing. Coran stood a few feet away, silent. 

“Now, wait a minute,” Shiro said. He instinctively reached a hand toward Keith’s shoulder, but wavered at the last moment with sudden uncertainty. After a moment, he gripped Keith tightly, protectively. The hesitation still made Keith’s stomach drop, however short-lived. “We’re not sending anyone anywhere. This is—Keith, I know you, come on. There’s no need to say that kind of thing…Keith?”

Keith unsheathed his knife and presented it on his palm; it had woken. He felt sick. “She gave this to me.”

Ulaz made an interested noise. “That is Galra weaponry. Such a blade can only be wielded by those who possess Galra blood.”

“ _Gone,_ ” Allura gritted out. 

“Wait, hold up,” Lance said, voice shaky but loud. His eyes darted to Keith and quickly away. His eyebrows furrowed in an expression of distraught confusion. “Keith isn’t working with the Galra. He’s the one who helped me find Blue in the first place! And…and he’s been here with us the whole time.”

“How _else_ would he know this information?”

Keith glanced to Coran, who stared back at him resolutely. He gave in, too tired to fight and too expressive to lie. “I’ve lived through this before. I lived through it and then woke up before Shiro went missing and I’m going through it all a second time.”

“Oh, please,” Allura snapped. “You expect me to believe that excuse?”

“It’s true, Princess,” Coran said.

She turned to him in surprise, the tension beginning to leave her shoulders. “Coran, what are you saying?”

“He came to me asking about alternate universes and time travel,” Coran said. He sent Keith a pointed look. “Though he said today was the latest he had lived through.”

Keith looked down. 

“That is valuable information to have on hand,” Ulaz said carefully. He eyed Keith with subdued curiosity. His hands were still cuffed together at Allura’s insistence. Keith wasn’t sure even Ulaz believed him. 

“Wait, hold on,” Lance said. His face softened. “Time travel? H—How far in the future were you? Did…we make it home? Back home?”

“I…we never got that far,” Keith said quietly. Lance’s shoulders slumped at the answer and he looked away again. “We were still fighting Zarkon when I woke up back at the Garrison on the morning of the Kerberos launch.”

Shiro looked conflicted, likely thinking back on the day and Keith’s odd, albeit explainable, behavior. “Keith…is this all true?”

He wished it wasn’t. “Why would I make it up?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” And Shiro actually looked hurt at the thought of Keith keeping something so monumental from him. And suddenly Keith wasn’t sure of anything anymore—who he was, what consequences he had created, where he stood in the team.

“Yeah!” Pidge frowned. She looked hurt, too. “We could have used that information.”

“I tried to change things!” Keith said and his voice cracked. “I did!”

Hunk rubbed his neck awkwardly. “But why didn’t you just tell us, dude? We’re all friends.”

“Why would any of you have reason to believe me?” Keith muttered. Even now, their dubious expressions fueled his hurt and hesitance. “You guys already thought I was crazy when I tried to explain the Blue Lion.”

And he wanted so earnestly to be able to do it alone, but he didn’t say that. That didn’t matter anymore—not when it was obvious he couldn’t. Now it was about damage control and repairing any friendships his confession had potentially just cost him. The thought that the outcome was out of his control now—at least, moreso than it already had been, which turned out to be a considerable amount in the first place—drew heavy unease from his chest. 

Allura still stood off in the corner, her arms crossed stiffly and her posture angry. Keith wanted to be more bothered by it—be furious at her dismissive treatment, but he couldn’t find it in himself. He knew he would be no different in her place, had been just as distrusting of the Blades himself the first time around. “And you believe him, Coran?”

“I do, Princess,” Coran said. “Though I must say I did not expect his heritage to be so.”

Lance spoke up in a quiet voice, “So, what happens?”

Keith hesitated. “Well, a lot. Shiro goes missing again, Allura takes over flying the Blue Lion, you take over flying Red. We liberate a few more planets. We meet Zarkon’s son, Lotor. Pidge…you find Matt.”

She let out a choking noise. “And you didn’t tell me?!”

“This is a lot to take in,” Shiro said eventually. “I think we should start from the beginning.”


	5. Chapter 5

“I don’t remember everything,” Keith warned. “It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay,” Shiro said gently and passed him a pouch of water. “Just tell us what you do remember.”

Keith sat in the kitchen while the others all stood a considerable distance away from him; it felt like an interrogation or intervention or some other god awful ‘tion’. Only Ulaz sat next to him, finally uncuffed. And what a divide it made: the Galra, and everyone else.

He took a short sip of water. “Things are different in this world. We have more time.”

“That’s…not possible,” Pidge said. She looked antsy, likely waiting for more details on Matt.

“In the other timeline we get thrown into wormholes because of Haggar, but that didn’t happen this time around, and so now we’re ahead of everyone else. Last time, Zarkon found us as soon as Ulaz showed us the base,” Keith said. “But if I’m remembering right, we should have a few more days before he does, maybe even a week.”

“Okay,” Hunk said. “So let’s just, hide out in that space taco. Then he can’t find us, right?”

“He tracks us,” Keith said. “Through the Black Lion.”

All eyes turned to Shiro, who stiffened. “What?”

“It’s—some connection he still has with it from when he was the Black Paladin,” Keith said. “I don’t know how you shut him out, but you did last time. If we can avoid him finding us, though, we’ll have the upper hand.” 

Shiro ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. Okay, I’ll figure this out before he can get to us. What else can you tell us?”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen for sure now that things have changed,” Keith admitted. “I can tell you what _did_ happen, but it’s not certain anymore. After Zarkon tracks us, the tele something lenses break and we have to get more.”

“Tele what now?” Lance said, scrunching his face up.

Coran perked up. “Oh, the teludav lenses?”

“Yeah, that,” Keith said. “And we have to get something from the stomach of a Weblum, and a crystal from Balmera. The Blades help us break out Slav, a prisoner of the Galra. The Galra…they’re harboring Quintessence—a lot of it. We manage to weaken Zarkon a lot, but we lose Shiro in the process. Not—not forever, but he vanishes from the Black Lion. And Zarkon’s son, Lotor, attacks. He’s trying to get the Quintessence, too, but I don’t know what for. He and Zarkon…don’t exactly get along. And Pidge, you find Matt. I don’t know how or where, but you do.”

“That’s so very helpful,” Pidge said dully. 

“Pidge,” Shiro said, though his tone was soft, apologetic. He turned back to Keith. “Okay, that’s quite a bit of information. If you were to pick what mission was the most important, which would it be?”

Keith sighed. “That’s asking a lot, Shiro. Probably…helping Slav escape. He knows a lot about alternate realities and whatnot. He might be able to explain all this better than I can.”

Shiro looked to Ulaz. “Can your group give us information on him?”

“Yes,” Ulaz said. “The sooner he is freed the better. I can take you to the Blades’ base. Slav created our gravity generator that creates the space-time fold that hides the station. His technology has allowed the Blade of Marmora to remain hidden, and Zarkon will do anything to get his hands on the technology.”

“We can head there now,” Shiro said.

“Not yet,” Ulaz warned. “If Zarkon is tracking you through the Black Lion I cannot let you near our headquarters. It would put too many at risk. If you lead him there, our entire underground network, everything we’ve spent centuries building, will be lost.”

“Right,” Shiro said. “Allura, do you know anything about Zarkon’s connection to the Black Lion?”

“No,” she said grimly. “If he is still connected after all this time, it must be rather strong, though. Perhaps you can question Sendak?”

“Be careful,” Keith said. “That…didn’t end well last time. He has the coordinates to a Galran transport hub, but Zarkon tracked us there. We shouldn’t go anywhere with the Black Lion while Zarkon is still connected.”

Shiro nodded. “I can see what other information Sendak’s holding.”

“I’m going to fix up the Castle,” Allura said after a moment of silence. She looked like she mainly wanted an escape. “Coran, come help me.”

“On it, Princess,” Coran said. “Number three, would you like to learn about itreonper thrusters?”

Hunk’s eyes lit up. “Of course!”

“Number five?”

Pidge shook her head. “No thanks, Coran.”

Keith was beginning to think that was just Coran’s code for wanting company, but it seemed to please Hunk either way. God knew how little Keith had understood about them. Pidge staying, though—that meant she had questions for him. A bit unwanted, but hardly unexpected. Allura left for the control room, followed by Coran and Hunk who were already fervently discussing the differences between motor circuit sizes in engines. 

“Keith,” Shiro began. 

“I know, Shiro,” Keith said. There was already a sickly sensation that swirled around violently in his chest and stomach that gathered strength with every word spoken to him. “I’m sorry.”

Shiro shook his head. “No, not that. You have no reason to apologize for any of this. Let’s just talk strategylater, okay? I want to figure out this Black Lion mess before Zarkon tries anything.”

“You’re better off talking to Slav,” Keith pointed out. Nevertheless, he appreciated the extension of any semblance of an olive branch. “But okay.”

“And Keith, you’re still you. None of us are going to hold this against you. You’ll always be our teammate and friend. Don’t be afraid to talk to us,” Shiro said. He offered a soft smile. “We’re here for you.”

Keith swallowed and gave a sharp nod. “Thank you.”

Shiro turned and left toward Sendak’s pod alongside Ulaz. 

Keith looked to Pidge and Lance who were firm in their spots. He sighed, resigned. “I’m guessing you two have questions?”

Pidge jumped on his words. “How could you not tell me that Matt’s alive?” 

“Pidge…I don’t know where he is. I didn’t want to change anything and risk his life in the process.”

She grimaced and hugged her arms around her waist. “What _have_ you changed?”

Keith hesitated. “Sendak had memories of a space hub that we visited, but Allura was captured by a Galra ship and the rest of us got sent into wormholes after we rescued her. It wasn’t pretty. Shiro was really injured from it. That was supposed to happen, well, today. Last time we didn’t meet Ulaz for another week or so.”

“You’re Galra,” she said bluntly.

He flinched despite his attempt to mask it. He faintly heard Lance sigh. 

“Yes,” he said eventually. “That wasn’t supposed to be common knowledge for another few weeks.”

“Maybe that’s why it was you,” Pidge said. She sat down in a chair and swung her feet up. Keith was somewhat startled by her nonchalance, though it wasn’t an unwelcome reaction. “You said this was some sort of time travel, right? Maybe there was something in your genes that activated a time distortion or reality splicing. Considering you’re the only one of the group who’s not fully human—excluding Allura and Coran, but Alteans are vastly different from Galra from what I’ve read—”

“Pidge,” Lance interrupted. “Get to the point.”

“Right. Well, maybe Ulaz and his group knows something about this? They’re the only Galra we’re in contact with who aren’t trying to kill us,” she said. “Though you _are_ the only half Galra here, right?”

“There’s…Lotor.”

“Who’s that again?” Lance asked.

“Zarkon’s son,” Keith said.

Lance made a face. “ _Zarkon_ had a kid? That just seems wrong.”

“So he’s half Galra, half human?”

“Half Galra half Altean, actually,” Keith said. 

Pidge made a surprised noise. “Interesting. We should get in contact with him and see if he traveled backwards as well. Maybe he even remembers all of it like you.”

“He’s kind of trying to kill us,” Keith said. Not to mention, he wasn’t sure where Lotor was at the moment. The Prince had an obnoxious tendency to show up when his presence was unwanted and burrow into exorbitant secrecy when sought for. “So maybe let’s not.”

Pidge shrugged. “I’m just trying to make sense of all of this.”

“So am I,” Keith said dryly. “And I have been for the past year without much success. Look, like I said, Slav will know a lot more about this than I do.”

“Fine,” Pidge said and stood up. She hesitated on her way to the door, her fingers curling into small fists. “Do…I find my father?”

“No,” Keith said softly. “You’re still looking.”

She nodded curtly and left. 

Silence.

“So I guess this explains why you were so good at flying Red.”

Keith huffed out a breathy laugh; relief. Lance was almost unfairly good at comforting others, at knowing exactly what sentences to say and words to avoid. “Trust me, Lance; I was better than you in that universe, too.”

Lance rolled his eyes. He took a few steps closer and lifted himself onto the table right next to Keith. His long legs dangled, suspended in the same uncertainty that Keith felt rumbling through himself. “So am I—wait, are you going to refuse to answer my questions because you’re worried you’ll change the outcome in the process or whatever?”

“I’m _trying_ to change the outcome, though,” Keith said. “So it really doesn’t matter. Ask away.”

“Okay, right. Am I dating anyone?”

Keith held in an eye roll—and really, the urge had been so strong he deserved a reward of some sorts; as Shiro put it, patience yielded focus. Of all the questions Lance could have asked, though, did it really have to be that one? “No, Lance, in the middle of an intergalactic war, you aren’t dating anyone.”

Lance looked pensive. “Okay—okay, good.”

_That_ prompted a reaction that Keith was too slow to prevent. His eyebrows flew up his forehead and he felt the tickle of his bangs. “What? Since when are you _glad_ to be single?”

Lance flustered. “That! I—I, I mean. I really shouldn’t tie myself down and disappoint all the g—girls in the worlds, you know?”

“Right.”

“A—Anyway,” Lance said. He rubbed his neck. “That’s all I wanted to know. I’m going to go—yeah.”

Keith gave a faint nod. 

Lance dropped his feet to the ground and headed for the door. Halfway there, he paused and turned. “And Keith?”

“Hmm?” Keith didn’t look up from his lap where he was turning over his knife in his hands. Knowledge or death.

“I know Allura’s upset right now, and she probably was in the other world you went through, but I’m guessing things turned out okay for you there. And so it’ll work out here, too, okay? For what it’s worth, it doesn’t bother me.”

Keith glanced up at that, an eyebrow raised. “At all?”

“Not in the slightest,” Lance said, and he smiled softly. It was a smile basked in unconditional acceptance, something Keith hadn’t realized was attainable from Lance, not even in the other universe. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go back if he and Lance could be this close here. “Though it makes sense that the only person to still wear a mullet in the 21st century isn’t fully human.”

Keith scoffed. “One of these days I’ll just cut it off so you stop whining about it.”

“No!” Lance looked startled by his own response, his eyes slightly widened and his mouth agape. He shifted on his feet nervously and snapped his jaw back. “I mean, then what would I make fun of? I mean, there’s obviously so much more I _could_ , but the mullet’s just such good ammunition—”

“Lance,” Keith interrupted, accompanied by a roll of his eyes. “I won’t cut it.”

“Okay,” Lance said. He loosened his shoulders and shot Keith an awkward smile. “Good. Uhm. See you.”

The castle was uncomfortably quiet once he was alone.

 

~

 

Keith wound up spending a lot of time either in the training deck or his room. It wasn’t far from how he normally spent his time, but the seclusion seemed almost mandatory now. Allura was still keeping her distance—which he expected and understood, but it still _hurt—_ so he made a point to stay out of the way. It was her castle, after all. The others weren’t necessarily treating him differently, but there was some unspoken uneasiness that seemed to hang around his presence. 

Ulaz had returned to the Marmora headquarters after observing Shiro comb through Sendak’s memories. There had even been an extended offer for Keith to visit, alone. He had almost accepted, but he couldn’t bring himself to yet. He tried not to think about the fact that Lance’s earlier smile may have very well been the small gesture that compelled him to stay. He was being silly; it was just a smile. 

Shiro resolved to mend his connection with the Black Lion before risking Slav’s rescue. They were playing it considerably safe, none of them wanting to chance upsetting the balance further. Everyone had come up to him at least once to ask about the future, questions which Keith did his best to answer. Hunk wanted to know about Shay, and had given a dejected look when Keith had little to say about her. Pidge hounded him for answers about Matt and various time related scientific theories that Keith hardly understood. Shiro mostly came to him for advice on how to draw Zarkon away from the Black Lion, a concept which Keith unfortunately was not well versed in. Surprisingly, Lance wound up, despite his initial interest, being the one who asked the fewest questions. There was a sense of disconnect from Lance, as though he still existed in the ‘before’, when everyone still thought Keith to be entirely human and of this reality and time. But regardless of his seemingly willful ignorance of the time travel aspect, he appeared to be bothered by Keith being part Galra. At least, that was the only explanation Keith could muster; though Lance had directly told him it was fine, his actions said otherwise. He was quieter around Keith, less animated. He stood with a wider berth, stopped initiating conversation, and rejected all offers to continue their training. Internally, Keith knew he had every right to be enraged about Lance lying to his face, but he was more hurt than anything else. 

By the third day of discomfort, Keith was feeling a bit more than desperate. Lance approached him maybe once since his initial questioning, an interaction that lasted no more than a minute and consisted mainly of Lance muttering a “Sorry” after bumping into Keith’s shoulder. The shoulder burned along with his chest. 

“It’s okay,” he said quickly. “Uh, what are you up to?”

Lance licked his lips and his eyes wandered down the hallway, distracted. “I was just going to take a nap. See you at dinner.”

“Wait, Lance,” Keith began, but Lance was already darting around the corner. Keith heard the echoes of his footsteps long after they disappeared. 

He sighed, defeated. It was a hazy recall at best, but he remembered Lance treating him more normally in the other timeline. And Lance had over in this reality at first when Keith admitted his Galra heritage, but perhaps it had taken some time for the news to truly set in and its significance to bear its ugly head. He had _thought_ he and Lance were past their weird rival based interactions, but maybe Keith hadn’t changed as many variables as he would have liked. Maybe he was so focused on changing the insignificant details that he was missing opportunities to change important decisions. 

Or maybe he was just overthinking it all. His team knew what was going to happen now, which meant he didn’t have to shoulder all of the decisions anymore. Out of everyone, Shiro and Pidge had responded the most naturally to the notion of time travel. He figured Pidge more than anyone else would have put consideration into the odd circumstances of the actual time distortion, so he eventually made his way to her room. 

“Come in!” She called out from the other side of the door. 

Keith walked in to see her perched on her bed, laptop on her legs. “Hey, Pidge.”

“Keith,” she greeted. “What’s up? Did you remember any information about Matt?”

“Sorry, no,” Keith said. He wished he could, but he had been stationed with the Blades during Matt’s discovery and all the memories were fuzzy and blurry as things were. Some days, he couldn’t even remember which memories had been in the original timeline or this one. It had begun to feel a bit unsettling, a heavy lump settled low in his stomach that never quite dissipated. “Were you still looking into the potential cause for all this?”

Pidge nodded. “Yeah, but I haven’t found anything very useful. There’s not really documented cases for this kind of event, unfortunately. The best Hunk and I could come up with were some old Altean texts about wormholes altering time, but in those cases the individuals’ ages hadn’t changed during the distortion. So while everyone else around them was either younger or older, they weren’t. But it sounds as though you wound up younger, too, when you came back.”

“Yeah,” Keith said. “I remember waking up at the Garrison in my sixteen year old body. It definitely wasn’t the same body as the one I had…before, I guess.”

Pidge gnawed on her lower lip. “What do you mean by that?”

“It was…weaker. Less experienced with training,” Keith said. “It’s like my body went back in time but my mind didn’t.”

“Hmm…interesting,” Pidge said. She pushed her laptop aside and settled her hands on her knees, leaning closer to Keith. “I wonder if that was intentional. Or if it had meant for you to go back tabula rasa, but something mutated or went wrong.”

“Tabula what now?”

“It means blank state,” Pidge said. “Theoretically, you should have woken up with only the innate knowledge you had at the time, and everything else would come with the experiences that followed. But you woke up knowing _everything_ that had happened, whether you had experienced it or not.”

“I _definitely_ experienced it,” Keith cut in harshly. He dug his nails into his fists. There was no doubt he had painstakingly and thoroughly experienced every battle and injury and loss. 

Pidge held up her hands as appeasement. “Okay, okay, you experienced it. But you can’t fault me for my doubt; I certainly haven’t gone through any of what you’ve discussed. More importantly, anyway, the question is what the intentions were. Were you supposed to wake up here with prior knowledge in order to fix some sort of catastrophic and unforeseen failure on our part, or were you supposed to just get sent back to your younger age. And if it’s the latter, then _why_? Why bother?”

“I don’t know if it was exactly someone deciding what was going to happen,” Keith said, though it wasn’t the craziest notion he had encountered since leaving the Garrison. 

“You’re right,” Pidge said. “Which means that if it was just regular time travel, you’d go back not knowing anything was off, because time travel doesn’t happen for some preplanned reason—it just happens. From what I can tell, it’s some sort of time splice resulting from an accelerated end of a wormhole, which forces anything that passes through the wormhole to not have aged as much and essentially remain in the past. Your body would physically age through the acceleration even though time itself wouldn’t. Think of it like, running from one end of the training deck and then back. You aged, albeit insignificantly, but you’re back in the same spot as you were before. Except in this example the training deck itself would be in the same state as when you initially began the run. So normally there’d be a time discrepancy between your age and the metaphorical age of the training deck. But the weird part is that didn’t happen; you’re not the age you were when you left your time. Theoretically, you either should have returned with no knowledge and as sixteen, or with all of your knowledge and as nineteen or however old you were. But for some reason, neither of those happened.”

“Okay,” Keith said slowly. It was a lot to take in, especially considering his journey hadn’t quite abided by the apparent laws of wormholes. That was. Concerning. At least, provided this was time travel and not some alternate reality. He supposed by the time they rescued Slav, they would know for certain. “So then it’s like a redo button? And it would what, just erase my memory?”

“Well,” Pidge said. “Technically since you’re going back to a previous point, you haven’t experienced anything yet, so you’d have no reason to remember it, if that makes sense.”

“I guess,” Keith said weakly. It didn’t. 

“It’s pretty paradoxical,” Pidge admitted. “Especially considering you _do_ remember. And…I’m all for science but, honestly none of this should be possible. At least not without negative energy, but that doesn’t exactly exist outside of the Casimir effect, and I don’t see how the amount of energy necessary would be acquired.”

“Energy,” Keith repeated. “What about, uh, Quintessence?”

“You’ll have to elaborate,” Pidge said. 

Keith frowned. “I don’t exactly know how to describe it. Allura will know more about it—it’s what the Galra are harboring that makes them so powerful. And it’s what King Alfor used to create the Voltron Lions. Maybe there’s some way to convert it into a negative energy, negative Quintessence.”

Pidge nodded, her eyes lighting up. “There’s some potential in that theory! I’ll have to talk to Allura and Coran about the history of Quintessence, of course, and see if there’s any mention of it in the texts I’ve perused. After all, what good is science without evidence?”

Keith blinked. “Pidge! That’s it!”

“Uh, what’s it?” Her hands paused on her laptop, which she was trying to drag back onto her lap. 

“Evidence,” Keith stressed. “It’s like you said before, you haven’t experienced any of this. But maybe you could, in a way. If we use the mind meld helmets, I might be able to project the memories to the team and give everyone a view of what happened. It’d definitely be easier than trying to explain it all.”

Pidge snapped her fingers. “That may just work.”

 

~

 

“Paladins!” Allura’s voice rang over the comms, echoing throughout the room. “You are all needed on the training deck as soon as possible!” She turned to Pidge with sparkling eyes. “This was a wonderful idea, Pidge.”

“Actually,” Pidge said with a wide grin; she gestured to her left. “It was Keith’s idea.”

Allura blinked, and after a pause a small, wary smile fell onto her face. “Oh. Well, it’s a splendid one.”

“Thank you,” Keith said quietly. 

The others were soon running in, looking rather nonplussed and out of breath. They looked to where Allura, Keith, and Pidge stood, and then back amongst themselves. 

Shiro spoke first, “What’s happened, Allura?”

“We’re going to do a training exercise!”

Lance groaned. “I woke up from a nap for this? Haven’t we done enough of those?”

“This one is somewhat different,” Allura said. She gestured for the everyone to sit. “We’ll be performing a mind meld with a slight change. Instead of everyone sharing memories or attempting to form Voltron mentally, most of us will just be observing. Keith had the fantastic idea of offering his memories to us so we can experience them secondhand, and perhaps better understand the other timeline.”

“Wow,” Hunk murmured; he nudged Lance’s side. “Galra Keith is super smart.”

Keith huffed, instinctively crossing his arms. Watching him, Lance pinkened a bit and turned the other way, which drew a frown from Keith. He supposed the nap hadn’t miraculously erased Lance’s sudden reinstated distaste for Keith’s presence. 

“It might be jumbled,” Keith said when everyone had settled into the helmets. “I’ll try to remember everything in chronological order, but my mind might jump around a bit. And there’ll probably be events that didn’t happen here but did in the other universe.”

“That’s fine,” Shiro said. “We’ll figure that out afterwards.”

Keith gave a quick nod and closed his eyes. He tried to clear his mind and focus on his breathing. He thought back to the Garrison, initially thinking of his conversation with Shiro the morning he woke up convinced he was with the Blades. He forced himself to remember the first time around, the details hazy up until the launch itself and the report of its supposed crash. Keith wasn’t sure the mind meld was working, but no one gave any indication otherwise. Pushing himself further into his memories, he looked back on the first official meeting with all five of them. That scene in particular was a bright burst, strong colors bleeding into the memory and illuminating everyone who spoke. He could practically hear the voices echoing in his ears, the quiet and pained groans of Shiro, the indignant tone slipping into Lance’s sneer of “ _Who am I_? Uh, the name’s _Lance_ ”. 

He heard a faint gasp from someone when his mind tumbled onto his first meeting with Red, of his brief plummet into the vast expanse of space. The memories seemed to speed up, darting from their first successful formation of Voltron to the Arusians to the Bonding Moment™. He had been doing his best to evade its return, but it stubbornly came through and Keith was horrified to find that it was being played entirely from his point of view, meaning only Lance’s face was visible. It saved him from having to broadcast his own, dopey smile, but it meant Lance was being shown from how he remembered it, which Keith knew was far from the reality. Thankfully, no one else here did. He pushed it away quickly, moving on toward meeting Nyma and Rolo. He made it as far as the team’s separation into wormholes and his discovery of Shiro before there was a loud gasp and the rattling of metal. 

Keith’s eyes shot open, the memories fading into a vague sense of confusion and surprise. He removed his mind meld and looked to the others.

Shiro was hunched over, his hands grasping wildly at his hair. 

“Shiro!” Keith yelled and scrambled to his feet. He darted over to Shiro and hesitantly let his hand hover. He didn’t want to risk touching Shiro in the off chance that his response would be unintentionally violent. “It’s okay—it was just a memory. I didn’t mean for…”

Shiro grit his teeth and shook his head. “Not you, Keith. Just reminded me…of the ship.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith said softly. Guilt settled low into his stomach; there was no reason for him to have needed to recall Shiro’s request of him. 

“Maybe we should pick this up later,” Hunk said, expression nervous. 

Allura frowned. “Yes, I think a break may be in need. We can try again tomorrow, but it’s good to know it’s possible. Keith…may I ask when this occurred?” 

“It hasn’t here,” Keith said. “Otherwise it would have happened around now. We were separated and trapped on different planets while you and Coran were stuck warping through a wormhole. Pidge was able to build a satellite to find us and figure out how to stop the Castle.”

Pidge flushed, pleased. Hunk snuck her a fist bump.

“It was really amazing,” Keith said, sending her a smile. “But I’m also glad it didn’t happen here. I don’t think any of us had a good time.”

“I see,” Allura mused. “I believe this exercise may be a very useful tool. You are all dismissed for now.”

Keith straightened his back and held a hand out to Shiro, who accepted it with a gracious and tentative smile. Keith hesitated, eventually giving him a one handed hug. Shiro returned the hug firmly. 

“It’s okay,” Shiro said again. “It’s good to know there’s hope of avoiding that.”

“Yeah,” Keith said, pulling back. “I’ll…try to be more careful about what I show. That wasn’t necessary.”

Shiro shrugged. “Any information is good information. Keith, I know that letting others in isn’t easy for you, and so. Well, it means a lot to everyone that you let us see all of that.”

Keith nodded swiftly, feeling his cheeks heat up. It was the least he could do. 

“I’m going to go talk to Allura and Coran,” Shiro said. “I think I’m getting somewhere with my connection to the Black Lion.”

“Good luck,” Keith said, and Pidge hummed in agreement. 

As Shiro headed off, Pidge turned to Keith, nearly buzzing with excitement. “It worked! Oh my God, that’s so incredible. It was like I was watching myself dream or something. It felt so similar but not at the same time. I wonder if we recorded your brain activity while you remembered if we’d really see activation in the main memory regions…”

“I think this is enough for now,” Keith said. 

“Sorry for doubting you,” Hunk said. “But to be fair, you being insane made a lot more sense than all this does.”

Keith shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize, Hunk. I wouldn’t have believed you, either.”

“So, Pidge,” Hunk said. “What have you found so far in the texts I collected for you?”

“Okay, so,” she began. 

Keith tuned her out, knowing he had already heard the gist of it and was unlikely to understand anything beyond that. Realizing he hadn’t heard Lance’s voice yet, he turned to look for him. Lance sat on the ground still, legs crossed and hands loosely cradling the mind meld in his lap. He stared blankly at the floor, an indescribable look adorning his face. Keith frowned. 

“Lance?”

Lance looked up and blinked. “Oh, hey, Keith.”

“You uh…what’s up?” Keith shifted on his feet, uncertain. After another second of silent deliberation, he sat down two or so feet away from Lance. “Was it—err, too much?”

Lance faced him and offered a shaky, subdued smile. “What? Pshh, no. I can handle it. ‘sjust weird is all.”

Keith relaxed. “Yeah, think how I felt through all this.”

“So all that…really happened,” Lance said. His voice was dull, distant. 

“Technically,” Keith said. He rubbed his neck. “Not here, I guess.”

“Was that this timeline?” Lance asked softly. “Or…Or was it another universe?”

“I don’t know,” Keith admitted. “I won’t know, until Slav. Or if Pidge figures out the science behind all this.”

“Right.” Lance cleared his throat. “I’m just going to—to go.”

He stood up and briskly headed for the door; Keith silently watched him leave, not bothering to even attempt to impede the escape. Considering how speedily Lance had hightailed it out of the hallway earlier, Keith figured it wasn’t worth the effort. He sighed, stood, and turned back to Pidge and Hunk. 

“Pidge,” Keith said. 

She looked to him, pausing mid sentence. “Yeah?”

“If this is time travel,” Keith said. “Would it… Could I go back?”

“I…don’t think so,” Pidge said, her expression softening. “All of the cases I’ve read about have been of someone traveling to the past; a one way ticket.”

“Oh.”

Hunk held up his hands. “Hey, we don’t know for sure though, right, Pidge?”

“Right,” she said quietly. “Considering there’s so little information on all this, there’s no telling what possibilities we’re not aware of. But I would just, not hold out hope, to be safe.”

Keith sighed. “Fair enough. Things would be different, wouldn’t they.”

“Well,” Hunk said with a shrug. “If we’re using your memories to plan, then they should. Like, I don’t think there’s a way to have a future not influenced by all this right here—even this very conversation could be changing everything!”

“Not helping, Hunk,” Pidge said. She looked back to Keith. “But that’s not a problem, right? You know what to do differently this time around to make the future better.” 

Keith frowned. “I guess. But, you guys are different.”

Pidge made a face. “We’re still us, so what does it matter?”

“Nothing, I guess,” Keith relented. “I’m going to go train.”

“See you,” Pidge said absentmindedly. Hunk offered a short wave as the two ambled toward the exit. 

Keith started up the gladiator, unsheathing his bayard. “Begin simulation level 1.”

His mind was split, stuck between longing for a now nonexistent future unmarred by his changed decisions, but also feeling a strong tie to the current and more optimistic timeline. He wanted his old friends back, but not at the expense of losing the connection he was cultivating with his friends here. But what if he had twisted it? Had manipulated them into establishing friendships that otherwise wouldn’t, couldn’t exist. Every conversation and choice, tailored to appeal to his teammates’ interests and likes, him no longer flying blind like before when he was still unaware of their full personalities. Was it fair, for him to be holding onto some untraditional advantage that allowed him better insight into how they would react? He couldn’t stand the thought of that, either. Grunting, he slipped under the gladiator’s sword and caught it on its side. He muttered out “begin level 2” and readied his stance, beads of sweat beginning to methodically drip down his temples. 

The worst of it all, probably, was sincerely not knowing whether he would return given the opportunity. 

 

~

 

The next morning Allura approached him in the kitchen.

“Keith.”

“Princess.”

She sighed, sat down next to him, and placed her hand gently upon his, which rested next to his bowl of food goo. “I must apologize for my earlier behavior. It was not fair of me to treat you as such. You are a trustworthy Paladin of Voltron, and have given me no reason to think otherwise.”

“It’s really okay,” Keith said. He felt a flush creeping onto his cheeks. He expected Allura to need longer to adjust to his undesirable ancestry, and he suddenly felt awkward in her presence. Despite her apology, he felt as though he ought to be the one asking for forgiveness. “I understand. I’m not upset about it. I… should have told everyone sooner.”

“Nonsense,” she said with a shake of her head. “You did what you felt was best.”

“Thank you, Allura,” he said quietly. She offered him a warm smile.

“Hey Hunk, you in he—” Lance stepped into the room and broke off into silence mid sentence. His eyes danced toward where Allura’s hand still rested on Keith’s. He straightened and his expression went blank. “Oh.”

“Hello, Lance,” Allura said. “I believe Hunk said he was heading toward the observatory.”

Lance gave a strained smile. “Right.”

“Well,” Allura said and she looked to Keith. “Thank you for the talk. I’m going to go check with Coran about our plans for the next few vargas. And don’t forget; we’ll be continuing the mind meld later today.”

Keith nodded and turned back to his food. He picked up his spoon and paused. He felt the weight of eyes on him and brought his gaze up to where Lance stood stiffly in the doorway. He didn’t so much as glance at Allura’s exit. Instead, his eyes were steadily trained on Keith. 

“Did you need something? Allura said Hunk was in the observatory.” 

“Yeah,” Lance said. Keith watched his neck stutter as he swallowed. “You and Allura, just there.”

Keith grimaced; of course. “Lance, I already told you. I’m not interested in her.”

“Did you?” Lance murmured. “I coulda sworn you just said that she wasn’t interested in me.”

“Well, lucky you,” Keith grit out. He dropped his spoon and clenched his hands; he didn’t have an appetite anymore. “She’s not interested in me and I’m not interested in her, so you can keep flirting with no success.”

Keith stood up from his chair and stalked toward the door. 

“Keith…”

“What, Lance?” He snapped. He burned with irrational anger, weirdly upset with the situation despite the normalcy of Lance pining over Allura. There was a sour curl of his stomach, a faint scratch of bitterness that fed greedily off his rage. He wanted it gone—wanted Lance gone, but also didn’t. 

Lance watched him closely, silent. His eyes seemed to be searching for something, still but curious.

“Ugh,” Keith said, for once annoyed by the other’s lack of speech. Lance’s gaze was uncomfortably heavy, leaving Keith feeling like he was under a microscope to be poked and prodded. Turning again, he started for the exit. He was almost on the other side of the door when a hand encircled his wrist. He turned to shoot a glare at Lance. “ _What?_ ”

Lance’s eyes fell away to the wall. His expression was fashioned into a grimace, the very tips of his lips twitching with a familiar, restless energy. His fingers were warm on Keith’s wrist, and left a slow, thumping rhythm of reminded existence. He was right in front of Keith, warm and alive, real; so _real, real, real—_

Keith sucked in a breath. He tugged his wrist, pleased—but not sure why—when Lance’s grip remained firm. 

But then Lance eventually said, “Nothing” and let go of Keith’s arm. He sat down at the table, looking as though he was making an appreciable effort to ignore Keith.

“Oh,” Keith said. He didn’t like how much the dismissal bothered him, so he stormed out of the room. A part of him wished Lance would stop him again, but he didn’t, and Keith honestly hadn’t expected anything different. He threw some of his frustrations into training until his thoughts were too consuming for even practice to mask. He took a quick shower and laid on his bed; as usual, his ceiling had no worthwhile advice to offer.

And then it was back to the mind meld within the next few hours, his short interlude of introspection already gone. Not that it had been particularly helpful. 

Narrowing his mind, he closed his eyes and thought back to where he had left off, coincidentally right before meeting Ulaz. He distantly felt the faint comfort the others drew from seeing a familiar scene. When he reached his memories of the Olkari people, Pidge interrupted: 

“We need to go there.”

Keith opened his eyes, shattering the scene. “What?”

Pidge gestured toward him. “That planet—the people need our help and it helps me summon a new weapon! We should head there as soon as possible.”

“Shiro still needs to connect to the Black Lion,” Hunk pointed out. “Until he does that even the space taco can’t save us.”

“And we need to rescue Slav,” Keith said. “But…maybe that weapon might help us do that.”

“These are all good ideas,” Shiro said. “We can make a more solid plan when Keith finishes going through the timeline.”

Keith nodded and closed his eyes again. His mind cycled through the next few days, of finding the pool, sneaking into the Space Mall, and visiting the Blades. He hesitated, trying to decide whether it was worth displaying his trials to everyone. Somewhat reluctantly, he skipped over it and went straight to recalling when he and Hunk gathered supplies from the Weblum. The exercise continued with no further interruptions or stutters until Keith remembered Shiro’s unprompted disappearance from the Black Lion.

“Hold up,” Hunk said. He took off his helmet and frowned at it as though it would answer his questions. “Where’d Shiro go?”

Keith shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. He kind of just, vanished.” He glanced to Shiro for reassurance that the man was comfortable continuing the mind meld. 

Shiro sat somewhat stiffly, but collected enough to ease Keith’s concerns. 

“We should probably continue,” Keith muttered. Hunk nodded and put his helmet back on. 

Lotor. Keith hated remembering how Lotor had baited him and how he had fell for it, but it was worth the discomfort and shame of relieving the memory if it meant helping his team gain an advantage. He broadcasted finding Shiro again and tricking Lotor, sensing the team’s relief. He was halfway through recalling his departure from Voltron when Lance’s voice cut through the memory.

“What was that?”

Keith opened his eyes and looked curiously at Lance. “What?”

Lance’s face was blank, but his voice had held all the emotion he had seemingly suppressed for the past few days. “So that’s it? You just up and leave us? Leave Voltron?”

“Lance, I…” Keith said. “We had too many Paladins. I wasn’t needed here—but I could still help the Blades.”

A flicker of a memory washed over him, the discussion in his room with Lance over the mismatched number of pilots to Lions. It wasn’t until Hunk murmured “Oh, man” and Lance flinched that Keith realized the memory had gone to everyone. 

“So you just leave because of me?” Lance whispered.

“That’s not,” Keith started. “I don’t… It’s not what you think.”

“Okay now,” Shiro said calmly. “We can talk about all this later. Let’s just finish up this exercise. We can talk when our minds aren’t all connected.” 

Lance averted his eyes and reluctantly put his helmet back on. “Fine.”

“It’s almost done,” Keith said. “There’s only one more big battle before, well, I woke up back at the Garrison. The communication was pretty shaky, so I don’t exactly know what happened on your guys’ end.”

He thought back to the last battle, of the fear he felt when Voltron hadn’t been checking in, when he saw their close proximity to the incoming blast. He remembered Lotor’s shot to the shield and his final words to the Paladins. Keith was about to remove his helmet when one last memory unwillingly slipped through, of him resigning to save the others no matter the consequences and recklessly speeding toward the ship. 

A rattle and a squeak of the slippery training deck floor. Feeling sick, Keith looked to where Lance had thrown his mind meld helmet, nearly leaving a dent on the ground in the process. Lance stalked off, exchanging no further words. Keith sucked in a breath, slowly removing his own helmet and setting it down. 

“Keith,” Shiro said, voice quiet.

“Dude,” Hunk agreed. “Leaving Voltron is one thing if it makes you happy, but—but you can’t just leave us forever! That’s not going to make anyone happy!”

“The shield wasn’t going to break,” Keith argued, a sharp, white fear tearing through him. He hadn’t had the conversation in the other timeline yet, a fortunate stroke of luck. And really, he should have been prepared for it, but perhaps that was the kind of thing no amount of preparation could assuage. “I couldn’t just let you guys die without doing… doing _anything_.” He turned to the side, eyes averted. “You guys weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Well, we did,” Pidge said, upset. “How could you think we’d want that of you?”

“It was the only way,” Keith said weakly. He swallowed, thinking back to Lance’s reaction. 

“Keith,” Allura said. “No matter your reasons at the time, we will _not_ let it come to that here. I promise.”

“Never, dude,” Hunk said. “Aww, man, c’mere. I’ve gotta hug you now.”

“Same!” Pidge said and hurried to her feet. 

Keith took a shaky breath as the others wrapped their arms around him. It was soft, kind, comforting. But a part of him couldn’t feel relieved while Lance was absent. It seemed as though their tentative friendship was unraveling faster than Keith could mend it. 

“We’ll give Lance some time to calm down,” Shiro said after he pulled back. “Then we can talk strategy.”

“Yeah,” Keith said. “I’m going to head to my room.”

Shiro grabbed his arm. “And Keith, if you need to talk, we’re all here for you. You don’t have to take on the world alone.” 

Keith smiled. “I know.”

And it was nice to have that spoken assurance, even if both he and Shiro knew he was unlikely to talk about it. It did feel a bit like a weight had been lifted, one that had steadily been increasing in size since he woke up at the Garrison. As he rounded the corner, he wasn’t expecting to see anyone standing right by his door, but there Lance was. 

“Keith,” Lance said weakly. 

“Don’t worry, I’m just heading to my room,” Keith said, trying to slip past him. 

“Wait,” Lance said, desperate, and wrapped his hand around Keith’s wrist. Keith waited. “I… I’m sorry I stormed out like that. I was just—Christ, I was scared.” He ran his free hand through his hair. “Even though you’re here, I really thought you were going to… That I was going to lose you. ”

“Well, you didn’t,” Keith said. He wasn’t necessarily annoyed by his team’s concern, but he had _just_ had this talk, something Lance would know if he hadn’t left. “Why do you even care so much? You don’t even like me now that you know I’m Galra.”

Lance frowned. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up, that’s _not_ true.”

Keith tugged his wrist from Lance’s grasp and crossed his arms. “Okay, so you just happened to start avoiding me immediately after I told you I’m part Galra.”

“…”

“I think I got the point you were making,” Keith said and took a step into his room.

Lance followed quickly. “Okay, that looks really bad, but it’s honestly not that, okay? I swear, Keith.”

Keith stopped and turned to Lance. He raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Explain.”

“…” Lance looked away. “I can’t.” 

“Wow, yeah, I figured,” Keith said, bitter. “I mean. You said you were okay with it. Why lie to me?”

Maybe that was why Keith was so bothered by it. He could handle people not liking him—it happened all the time—but lying to his face about it was something different all together. Especially when it came from Lance, who previously was so quick to announce his hatred for Keith without a care. So why lie now?

“I didn’t!” Lance insisted. “I really _am_ okay with it!” 

“Then why were you avoiding me?”

Lance threw up his arms. “B—Because you confuse me! I… I’m so confused and I don’t know how to act around you anymore.” 

Keith frowned. “Me being part Galra confuses you?”

“What? No! Not _that_ ,” Lance said. 

“Then _what_?”

Lance sat down on the bed and covered his face with his hands. “Quiznak.”

Keith stood awkwardly. “Uh, are you okay?”

Lance lowered his hands and looked up at Keith, his expression uncomfortably serious. “Remember when I asked you if I was dating anyone in the future?”

“Of course,” Keith said and immediately wished he had phrased it differently, less eagerly. “It was like, the second thing you asked.”

“Were you dating anyone?”

“Uh, no,” Keith said. He frowned. “Was this supposed to be some competition? Who would I even date?”

Lance shrugged. “I don’t know. Allura?”

Keith stiffened. “So it’s still about that.”

“No!” Lance said. He grimaced. “Did you want to be dating anyone?”

“I never thought about it,” Keith said honestly. They were in the midst of an intergalactic war; dating wasn’t a top priority. He hadn’t even entertained it in the other timeline, a notion so absurdly distant until he woke up here where essentially nothing seemed nonsensical anymore because of just how nonsensical it already all was. “We’re in war. Does it matter?”

“Probably not,” Lance admitted. He stood up abruptly and shoved his hands in his pocket, avoiding Keith’s gaze. “Shiro probably wants to talk plans, doesn’t he.”

“Yeah,” Keith said. “So…we’re good?”

Lance offered a strained smile. “Yeah, buddy. We’re great.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing Chapter 5, I took notes about the scenes from Lance's perspective to make sure everything was consistent. I figured I'd flesh it out and turn it into a mini chapter. So none of the actual plot is new but the internal dialogue is now all from Lance's POV. It's really like Ch 5 1/2.

Keith was Galra— _Galra_. Lance tried to comprehend the fact as it looped through his mind like a cheap home movie. Somehow, he didn’t feel as conflicted as he would have expected following the discovery that one of his friends was part Alien. Yeah, Keith was weird, but that was a given; it was a comfortable constant in the chaos of everything else. Maybe it only made sense for him to be an Alien, too. Maybe that was why Lance stood up for Keith against Allura, because he was still so irrevocably Keith and that was what was important.

It was still an uncomfortable conversation, and before Lance knew it, only he, Pidge, and Keith remained in the kitchen.

Keith sighed, his eyes darting between Lance and Pidge. “I’m guessing you two have questions?”

And Lance hesitated. He did have questions, but he also felt some odd urge to just _be_ there, as some kind of tangible reassurance to Keith that he was still part of the team. A nonverbal ‘hey buddy, I can still stand being in your presence’. Keith was his friend, and he didn’t want the Red Paladin to think that genetics were enough to change that. Even Alien genetics. For what it was worth, he had always wanted an Alien friend ever since his oldest sister, Bree, had taken him to see E.T. at a drive in movie all those years ago. He would have made a point to reference the film, but he figured Keith wouldn’t get it. That was okay; they could just watch it together later. 

Pidge did not hesitate: “How could you not tell me Matt was alive?”

“Pidge…I don’t know where he is,” Keith said. He sounded remorseful, though—guilty. “I didn’t want to change anything and risk his life in the process.”

“What _have_ you changed?”

Lance stood a small distance apart from the two while Keith listed out what he had changed. Really, it didn’t sound all that impressive considering how long Keith had to change all these variables. Though, it was nice knowing that Allura hadn’t been capture and Shiro was still in good health.

“You’re Galra,” Pidge said. 

Lance watched Keith wince, and he sighed. He liked Pidge, but she sure knew how to unintentionally insult someone. For the most part, though, he was just glad that she was taking it okay, too. The others seemed more hesitant, but Lance knew for certain Shiro still accepted Keith even if he wasn’t in the room at the moment. Hunk was Hunk, so Lance was sure that wouldn’t be a problem, and Coran seemed neutral about it—though he did also seem a tad protective of Keith, which was a good sign. Lance just wasn’t sure what was going to come of Allura. 

“Yes,” Keith eventually said. “That wasn’t supposed to be common knowledge for another few weeks.”

Weeks, huh? Lance wondered how he had kept it a secret for so long. He tried to rack his brain for any memories of Keith hinting at it, but he emerged with only blanks. Since when was Keith so capable of secrecy?

“Maybe that’s why it was you,” Pidge said. She sat down in a chair and swung her feet up. “You said this was some sort of time travel, right? Maybe there was something in your genes that activated a time distortion or reality splicing. Considering you’re the only one of the group who’s not fully human—excluding Allura and Coran, but Alteans are vastly different from Galra from what I’ve read—”

“Pidge,” Lance interrupted. He could tell Keith was still uncomfortable, especially at the thought of being so different from the others. Keith definitely didn’t need a list of the actual differences as reference. “Get to the point.”

“Right. Well, maybe Ulaz and his group knows something about this? They’re the only Galra we’re in contact with who aren’t trying to kill us,” she said. That was…one way to put it. “Though you _are_ the only half Galra here, right?”

“There’s…Lotor.”

The name sounded familiar, but Lance was at a loss. So much had happened in the past few hours that his brain was edging into overdrive. “Who’s that again?”

“Zarkon’s son,” Keith said.

Lance made a face. Eww. “ _Zarkon_ had a kid? That just seems wrong.”

“So he’s half Galra, half human?” Pidge asked.

“Half Galra half Altean, actually,” Keith said.

Pidge made a surprised noise. “Interesting. We should get in contact with him and see if he traveled backwards as well. Maybe he even remembers all of it like you.”

“He’s kind of trying to kill us,” Keith said. “So maybe let’s not.”

Pidge shrugged. “I’m just trying to make sense of all of this.”

“So am I,” Keith said dryly. “And I have been for the past year without much success. Look, like I said, Slav will know a lot more about this than I do.”

“Fine,” Pidge said and stood up. She hesitated on her way to the door, her fingers curling into small fists. “Do…I find my father?”

“No,” Keith said softly. “You’re still looking.”

She nodded curtly and left. A tense atmosphere folded over the remaining two Paladins.

“So I guess this explains why you were so good at flying Red,” Lance said, his voice working before his mind. 

Keith Kogane. Incredible pilot, top student at the Garrison, and apparently time traveler to boot. What a guy. And what unfair luck. How was Lance supposed to compete when the dude literally lived through all the battles and had twice the amount of training? And—oh, _oh_. Maybe that explained why Keith had acted so weirdly about the Arusian party and the Balmera. Well, quiznak. There went any leverage he’d ever have over Keith. Even while suffering through Lance’s stubborn refusal to listen, he had still tried to make a candid difference. That was…surprisingly noble of him, knowing that he would have to endure Lance ignoring or arguing against his comments but still putting in the effort. 

Keith laughed, and Lance felt his chest constrict with pleasure. He heard Keith’s laugh far, far too sparsely, and it was such a _nice_ laugh—all raspy and filled with air. He briefly wondered if this Keith laughed more than his counterpart had; maybe he had more reason to here. Lance hoped so. 

“Trust me, Lance; I was better than you in that universe, too.”

Lance rolled his eyes. Tentatively, he stepped closer and hopped up onto the table, sitting a few feet away from Keith. He thought about scooting closer, but Keith didn’t seem like the type of person to take comfort in physical closeness, not like Lance himself. The offer was there, though, Keith having the opportunity to move his own hand closer and indicate a want for physical touch. He didn’t, and Lance tried not to be disappointed. The conversation was progress enough. 

“So am I—wait, are you going to refuse to answer my questions because you’re worried you’ll change the outcome in the process or whatever?”

“I’m _trying_ to change the outcome, though,” Keith said, and okay, fair. All the movies Lance had watched told him it was a bad idea, though: the butterfly effect. But Keith had probably never seen those movies, so maybe it canceled it out. Plus there weren’t any space-butterflies, at least to Lance’s knowledge. “So it doesn’t really matter. Ask away.”

“Okay, right.” Lance chewed on his lip absently. There were so many questions he wanted answers to, but he didn’t think Keith would appreciate being grilled all night. Not to mention that there was no telling for certain thathis answers would even be accurate anymore, not with all the potential changes. Faintly, a question formed in Lance’s mind and he latched onto it, really just wanting a direction for his jumbled thoughts. “Am I dating anyone?”

Keith looked so, so utterly unimpressed with him. Lance fought the urge to bite his nails, to jiggle his leg—to just escape somehow from the painful stillness of the conversation. And okay, maybe it hadn’t been the most introspective or crucial question that ever existed, but he was curious. Allura hadn’t been very receptive to his advances—an understatement if he had ever thought one—but who knew what the future held in store? (Keith knew, apparently.)

“No, Lance,” Keith said tiredly. How much sleep had he been getting? Was the whole time travel mess keeping him up? Lance was briefly struck by the realization of how long it had been that Keith had been staying silent. Had it been the only reason Keith talked to him in the Garrison? His thoughts broke apart as Keith continued: “In the middle of an intergalactic war, you aren’t dating anyone.”

Lance paused. He felt a weird sense of relief at the answer, which baffled him. Was it just gas? Or perhaps relief that he didn’t have to worry about messing up a relationship before it even began? Allura was pretty, and cool, and a _Princess_ , so why wasn’t he disappointed by Keith’s answer? If anything, he was happy with it. Somewhat. Not dating anyone, huh. Not just not dating Allura—entirely single. “Okay—okay, good.”

Keith raised his eyebrows. “What? Since when are you _glad_ to be single.”

Quiznak, that was a good question. Lance flustered a bit and tried to identify a reason for both himself and Keith. It shouldn’t have been taking him so long. “That!” Good job so far. “I—I, I mean.” Nailing it. “I really shouldn’t tie myself down and disappoint all the g—girls,” Christ, he almost said guys—what the cheese? “In the worlds, you know?”

Keith gave him a flat look. “Right.”

“A—Anyway,” Lance said. He rubbed his neck. Why had guys been his first thought? Was he… “That’s all I wanted to know. I’m going to go—yeah.”

It wasn’t all he wanted to know, but maybe it was all he could handle.

Keith nodded.

Lance slid off the table and started for the door before he remembered a vital point in the conversation that he hadn’t mentioned yet. The whole reason he had stayed longer than the others, really, even if his first action had been to ask a question. “And Keith?”

Keith was just staring at his blade now. “Hmm?”

“I know Allura’s upset right now, and she probably was in the other world you went through, but I’m guessing things turned out okay for you there.” He hoped. And if they hadn’t, Lance would make sure they did here. “And so it’ll work out here, too, okay? For what it’s worth, it doesn’t bother me.”

Keith looked up, and the raw emotion in his expression startled Lance. Keith tended to try to remain reserved from what Lance could tell, but now his emotions were on full display. It was almost unnerving, but in a weirdly nice way. “At all?”

“Not in the slightest,” Lance said, smiling. He liked the thought of Keith being open, especially with him. It was a good look on him. “Though it makes sense that the only person to still wear a mullet in the 21st century isn’t fully human.”

Keith scoffed. “One of these days I’ll just cut it off so you stop whining about it.”

“No!” Lance’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Why had he protested it so adamantly? That was what he wanted, right? Keith to ditch the stupid mullet and look normal? But…then there’d be competition for Lance if Keith’s hair actually looked decent for once. And then what was left for Lance to insult? “I mean, then what would I make fun of? I mean, there’s obviously so much more I _could_ , but the mullet’s just such good ammunition—”

“Lance,” Keith interrupted and rolled his eyes. “I won’t cut it.”

“Okay,” Lance said, feeling a second wave of the paradoxical dreaded relief. He let his shoulders drop back down and tried to smile again and complete the facade of composure. “Good. Uhm. See you.”

He let the door slide behind him and tried not to groan.

 

~

 

Keith was the impulsive one, not Lance. Lance was content to sit back and watch things happen before deciding on his type of contribution, instead of jumping into action without a plan or full understanding of the situation. And that was better! Really; it allowed time for both parties to figure everything out and not risk it all by doing something stupid and reckless. 

Okay, so maybe he was avoiding Keith a little—just the teeniest eensy-weensiest bit, but it was also a huge castle ship, so maybe they were just conveniently missing each other the past few days because maybe Lance had a slight propensity to slip away into another room whenever possible. And maybe it was a little cruel to purposely stand a few extra feet away from Keith whenever they were forced into the same proximity, and to stop initiating conversation with him, and to refuse any further training lessons. It definitely seemed to puzzle Keith if his increasingly hurt expressions were anything to go off of, which, for the record, _ouch_ ; it pained Lance to see them. It wasn’t Lance’s fault, though, it was _Keith’s_. 

Lance was feeling confused, and had been feeling confused ever since his discussion with Keith about the future and his dating life. So he wasn’t dating anyone, cool, cool, that had been kind of expected, honestly. Did he _want_ to be dating someone? Maybe, yeah, that wasn’t all that surprising, either. But he couldn’t think of who he wanted to date if they weren’t Allura—but then he was also _glad_ they weren’t Allura. What kind of logic was that? Why hadn’t he wanted to hear that he was dating Allura?

“Ugh,” he said and covered his eyes with his fists, pressing against his eyelids to invoke stars. Feelings were the worst, sometimes. And distracting, which led him to end up bumping into someone in the hallway while he was temporarily blinded. He muttered a soft, “Sorry” and lowered his hands slowly.

“It’s okay,” Keith said quickly, and oh no, not Keith. Keith tried to catch his gaze while Lance blinked his vision back into a working state. Keith looked at him with earnest interest. “Uh, what are you up to?”

Lance licked his lips and his eyes wandered down the hallway, distracted. He looked for a viable exit, but there wasn’t one unless he wanted to walk into the castle’s equivalent of a laundry room. Excuse it was, then. “I was just going to take a nap. See you at dinner.”

“Wait, Lance,” Keith began, but Lance didn’t wait for him to finish the sentence and instead headed off toward his room. He didn’t think he could feasibly stumble through a conversation when it was only him and Keith, face to face and maintaining eye contact. Keith knew the future, which meant he knew more about Lance’s future than Lance did, a thought that was consistently unsettling. A part of him didn’t want to know what was going to happen, because it made it all the more real and constricting, even while aware of the fact that Keith had been able to make changes to the timeline. 

A nap wasn’t a bad idea, either. He wasn’t physically tired, but his body ached with the strain that developed from emotional exhaustion. Everything had gotten so crazy so fast, even moreso than when he had first found out about Voltron. At least then he had been lucky enough to have time to mull it over thanks to Keith’s early mention of it—and oh, there he went again, thinking about Keith. His eyes and head ached dully. Dragging his feet, he shuffled into his room and flopped down morosely on his bed. He stared at the adjacent wall; it connected his room to Keith’s. He wondered if Keith was in his own room only feet away, but he hadn’t heard his door opening, so it was unlikely. Maybe if Lance was lucky, he would be able to sleep until dinner, or even through it. 

Unfortunately, life—or Allura—had other plans for him. He woke up, groggy, to the sound of Allura’s voice requesting their immediate presence on the training deck. It sounded urgent, so he hurried off and found Hunk and Shiro along the way. He nodded in their direction as he fell into step with them. Weirdly enough, though, Keith and Pidge weren’t hurrying beside them. Keith had probably already been on the training deck, though, knowing him and his seemingly endless thirst for practice. And Pidge was probably off somewhere so invested in her technology that she hadn’t even heard Allura’s call. 

Lance was surprised to see Keith and Pidge already on the training deck together, looking entirely unsurprised by the spontaneous meeting. He looked to Shiro, awaiting instruction.

“What’s happened, Allura?” Shiro asked.

She smiled. “We’re going to do a training exercise!”

Lance groaned. “I woke up from a nap for this? Haven’t we done enough of those?”

“This one is somewhat different,” Allura said. She gestured for everyone to sit. Lance reluctantly did so, purposely choosing a seat next to Hunk and farther away from Keith. He’d just speed through the exercise and return to his room as soon as possible. “We’ll be performing a mind meld with a slight change. Instead of everyone sharing memories or attempting to form Voltron mentally, most of us will just be observing. Keith had the fantastic idea of offering his memories to us so we can experience them secondhand, and perhaps better understand the other timeline.”

“Wow,” Hunk murmured. He nudged Lance’s side. “Galra Keith is super smart.”

He watched as Keith huffed and crossed his arms at the comment. Lance felt his face flush, and prayed it wasn’t noticeable. A shared mind meld _was_ a smart idea, one Lance hadn’t expected from Keith’s impulsive personality. He looked away, not sure he could handle gazing at Keith without saying or doing anything embarrassing. He silently put on his helmet and waited for the others. 

“It might be jumbled,” Keith said. “I’ll try to remember everything in chronological order, but my mind might jump around a bit. And there’ll probably be events that didn’t happen here but did in the other universe.”

“That’s fine,” Shiro said. “We’ll figure that out afterwards.”

Keith nodded and closed his eyes. Lance watched him for one last moment, slowly soaking up the sight of Keith calm and peaceful, before he closed his own eyes.

Lance felt the wave of memories, the initial confusion and panic that Keith felt at the Garrison, and oh, he was projecting the wrong timeline. Lance felt a pang of sympathy for him as the view shifted into the other timeline quickly, this one a noticeable adjustment from what Lance remembered. He watched himself through Keith’s eyes as a younger version of him stormed over and demanded that he was the one who was going to be saving Shiro. It was surreal watching the difference, seeing the annoyance and bitter regard in his counterpart’s eyes as he confronted Keith about the Garrison. And God, Keith had _forgotten_ him in that timeline. Had they even interacted at the Garrison there? 

Lance began to notice a trend; a lot of the conversation and behavior was the same in both timelines, just slightly altered. He was surprised to observe Keith and himself fight over wormholes, a scene so much angrier than the one he had experienced. Here, the back and forth and been playful, its teasing edge a testament to the stark difference between how he seemed to feel about Keith in the other world, and how he felt about Keith here (how _did_ he feel about Keith?). And then, oh God, the aftermath of the party. Aghast, Lance watched the scene unfold, of Keith hurrying over to him—in lieu of attending to Shiro, even—and offering his hand, asking if Lance was okay.

The other Lance looked up at Keith with such an enamored and fond expression that Lance nearly threw his helmet off in distress. His voice had been so, so soft when he had spoken to Keith. Lance felt his stomach twist. Was he unconsciously and unintentionally projecting his own strong emotions onto the memory? Was that even possible? Was everyone else seeing the same, intimate scene that he was? If that was what he looked at Keith like in a universe where they were rivals, what the _Hell_ had his expression been in this world where they were friends? Quiznak, he hoped he and Keith hadn’t had a reunion after the healing pod like they had here—that in itself had been perhaps unreasonably fond. Thankfully, no such memory seemed to surface. 

Lance sat stiffly, his mind half absent while the other memories played through. He had gone off with Nyma in the other timeline, too, apparently. Keith hadn’t tried to stop him that time, though. But Christ, Keith had flown through an asteroid field to retrieve Blue? What a pilot—what a friend. Could he call them friends, there? The other Lance seemed intent to maintain the rivalry, for reasons Lance could understand but also disliked. 

The connection finally fell apart when certain memories were too much for Shiro. He distantly heard the others shouting and then talking, quieter, that led to the end of the session. His thoughts were too jumbled for him to register the actual words of the others. He just sat there, having removed his helmet and started cradling it in his arms. He stared at the floor, replaying the scene of him and Keith holding hands. It held such an intimate feel to it that Lance’s stomach began to ache with confusion.

He didn’t refocus until there was a quiet “Lance?”

Lance looked up and blinked. Keith stood a few feet away from him, his eyes wary and concerned. His helmet was gone. “Oh, hey, Keith.”

“You uh…what’s up?” Keith shifted on his feet. Lance swallowed nervously. After a moment, Keith sat down two feet away from him. “Was it—err, too much?”

Lance shuffled to face him and offered a shaky smile. It was too much—all of it was too much, just seeing Keith, seeing himself through Keith’s eyes, being this close to Keith now—“What? Pshh, no. I can handle it. ‘sjust weird is all.”

Keith seemed to relax at the platitude. “Yeah, think how I felt through all this.”

_Confused. Lost. Sickly_ , Lance thought, _everything I’m feeling currently._

“So all that…really happened,” Lance said. And had happened, a second time around. 

“Technically,” Keith said. He rubbed his neck. “Not here, I guess.”

“Was that this timeline?” Lance asked softly. Had things really changed that much from a few minor interaction tweaks? Had he and Keith really started out on such different footing here, one that meant they could easily fall into being friends? Being…being _what_? “Or…Or was it another universe?”

“I don’t know,” Keith admitted, and he looked annoyed by it. Lance supposed he’d be annoyed too if he had woken up years in the past and not knowing why or how. He couldn’t even imagine how he would respond if the others were to stare at him blankly and not remember any of their shared experiences or bonding. Probably poorly. “I won’t know, until Slav. Or if Pidge figures out the science behind all this.”

“Right.” Lance cleared his throat. He needed to leave. Now. “I’m just going to—to go.”

And he ran off, again. Keith didn’t even try to stop him this time. 

 

~

 

Lance couldn’t find Hunk, and it was imperative that he did. Even disregarding all the weird time travel and universe mess, he was stuck in a state of perpetual confusion. And he knew Hunk could remedy that, either through encouraging Lance to actually talk about the feelings, or through simply resorting to food therapy. By this point, he would gladly accept either. Inklings of understanding swam through his mind, but he pushed back harder. He just needed to find Hunk, and then he could allow himself to stop and consider the thoughts he so actively dreaded. He had already stopped by the training deck and Hunk’s room, both of which had been empty, so he figured the kitchen was the next logical stop. 

“Hey Hunk, you in he—” he broke off his sentence after entering the room. Allura and Keith sat next to each other at the table, smiling, while one of Allura’s hands rested gently on top of Keith’s. Lance straightened, feeling his stomach churn uneasily. Suddenly, food therapy didn’t sound so appealing. “Oh.”

“Hello, Lance,” Allura said, and she sounded too calm for someone who had just been caught—caught _canoodling_! with another team member. And with Keith, of all team members. The image of the two sitting together, smiling and touching hands, flashed wickedly through his mind again, and gross, okay? Keep it out of the kitchen. “I believe Hunk said he was heading toward the observatory.”

Lance tried to smile. “Right.” 

“Well,” Allura said and she looked back to Keith. Lance bit back a scowl. “Thank you for the talk. I’m going to go check with Coran about our plans for the next few vargas. And don’t forget; we’ll be continuing the mind meld later today.”

Keith nodded and turned back to his food. Allura left, but Lance couldn’t draw his attention off Keith, whose pale hand was empty now, touched only by the cool air of the castle. It looked lonely. 

Keith peered up at him. “Did you need something? Allura said Hunk was in the observatory.”

“Yeah,” Lance said, snapping out of his thoughts. He swallowed. “You and Allura, just there.”

He didn’t know where he was going with the sentence, but it seemed to hold some ferocious need to escape his throat. Once out, though, it hung awkwardly in the air, having no proper place to exist. Lance wanted to wave it away until only wisps of its memory remained. 

But Keith had already clung to it, and grimaced at the audacity of its implication. He was staring at Lance as though Lance had spit in his food, rather than just speak a few words. “Lance, I already told you. I’m not interested in her.”

“Did you?” Lance murmured. When he thought back on it, he only remembered Keith telling him that Allura wasn’t interested in Lance. A fact that weirdly enough didn’t frustrate him anymore. “I coulda sworn you just said that she wasn’t interested in me.”

“Well, lucky you,” Keith grit out. He dropped his spoon and balled his hands into fists. Lance knew that he was playing with fire, but he couldn’t stop himself. He never could, when it came to Keith. “She’s not interested in me and I’m not interested in her, so you can keep flirting with no success.” 

Keith wasn’t interested in her. Huh. Good to know. For some reason. 

Keith stood up from his chair and stalked toward the door.

“Keith…” Lance took a step toward him.

“What, Lance?” Keith snapped. 

Lance watched him closely, silent. There were no signs of dishonesty in his expression or stance; Keith truly didn’t like Allura. Lance tried to look closer to see some meaning in Keith that he couldn’t figure out himself. A faint glimmer of an answer washed over Keith’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it arrived. Maybe Lance had only imagined it. 

“Ugh,” Keith said. He started for the exit again. Before Keith could step outside, Lance reached out to hold his wrist in place. Keith turned and shot him a glare. “ _What?_ ”

Lance’s eyes fell away to the wall. He grimaced. He couldn’t look at Keith at the moment, but he didn’t want to let him leave, either. It was an absurd, perplexing sensation that left him metaphorically floundering. He listened closely as Keith sucked in a breath and tugged his wrist, but Lance held tight. He was running out of time before his behavior became more than just weird, but socially unacceptable. As the seconds ticked on, he couldn’t think of any helpful words to salvage the situation.

Eventually, he settled and said, “Nothing.”

He let go and stepped back to take a seat.

“Oh,” Keith said, and stormed off. 

Lance sighed and dropped his face into his hands. What was he doing? Why was every interaction with Keith suddenly so much more difficult to parse? And why couldn’t he stop thinking about his slip of the tongue from earlier? All the guys. Guys and girls, he had been about to say. It didn’t _have_ to mean anything more than a verbal fumble, but it did. He knew that now, now that his mind relentlessly filtered in images of sharp, flat chests and stubbled jaws, some of which looked far too familiar for his liking. It…wasn’t all too surprising when he let himself think about it for longer than a minute, but at the same time it was utterly terrifying. A distant notion that he had been steadily drowning in the depths of his mind since its feeble emergence, now glued straight to his eyelids. What would the others say? What would his family say? (Would he ever get the chance to tell them?) _Was it okay?_

He needed Hunk. 

Fortunately, his friend was in fact in the observatory, watching the emptiness of space that encapsulated the castle ship on all sides.

“Hunk,” Lance rasped. His heart beat worked at a frantic pace, only half because of the speed of his dash to the room. It felt ready to burst from his chest Alien-style. 

Hunk glanced over and did a double take, concern nearly dripping from his face on the second look. He took a few steps toward Lance. “Whoa, Lance. Are you okay?”

Lance mutely shook his head and hurried over, extending his arms in a plea for a hug. Hunk quickly scooped him up and squeezed tightly. He let out a relieved breath and hid his face on Hunk’s shoulder. 

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Hunk asked softly, rubbing Lance’s back. 

“Everything,” Lance blurted out. He pulled back and took hold of Hunk’s hand, dragging them both down to the floor. Hunk went easily and Lance flung himself face down on Hunk’s lap. He positioned himself so his face and legs touched the cold, hard ground. It was a nice contrast to the flush that pursued his cheeks. “Ughhhhhh.”

“Is it about the weird alternate universe time travel stuff?” Hunk guessed. He tugged his fingers through Lance’s hair, a solid but gentle presence. “‘Cause all that kind of freaked me out, too. I mean, hearing about it was one thing, but seeing the memories was a whole other mess. Especially when some of the memories were so similar to what happened here, but different enough that I felt like my own memory was just wrong.”

“It’s not that,” Lance said with a pronounced sniffle, though there were no signs of tears. Yet. He rested his chin on crossed arms as he stared at the specks of dust on the floor.

Hunk stayed quiet, waiting for Lance to answer on his own time. Lance closed his eyes. He felt strong affection flow through his bones at Hunk’s seemingly limitless patience. Hunk was a true friend, which made it that much scarier for Lance to consider confessing his newfound attraction to men. As much as he didn’t like to, Lance cared what others thought of him—especially when the judgments came from those closest to him. 

Eventually, he gathered enough courage to start talking again. “Hey, Hunk? You know I love the ladies, right?”

“Yeah, man,” Hunk said. “Is…Did Allura reject you again?”

“No,” Lance said faintly. “But, um. If it just so happens—hypothetically speaking, of course, total ‘what if’ here by the way—that I also l—like the men, uhm, would that…maybe not be the worst?”

Hunk was silent for a moment. Then, softly, he asked, “Lance, are you coming out to me?”

“I—I think?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Lance felt himself being lifted into a hug from Hunk. His throat stuttered down a heavy swallow as the tears finally arrived. He tried to breathe steady, not wanting to let even his own ears hear the encroaching sobs. 

“Lance, I’m so proud of you,” Hunk said. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

Lance bunched up his fists in Hunk’s vest and nodded, which probably just smeared snot around on the fabric. After a few more seconds, he leaned back and rubbed the back of his hand against his runny nose. “T—Thanks.” 

Hunk placed his hands on Lance’s shoulders and looked at him seriously. “I love you, dude. You’ll always be my best friend, okay? This doesn’t change that.”

Lance hiccuped and gave a watery smile. “I love you, too, Hunk. Man, you’re the best friend a guy could ask for.”

“Back atcha, buddy.”

They hugged one more time before they pulled back and sat with crossed legs, facing each other. 

“So,” Hunk started. “Double the options.”

Lance laughed and shrugged lopsidedly. Technically it was true, but the thought of dating someone still left him feeling uncertain. He understood enough to know—albeit not explain why—he didn’t want to date Allura, but he couldn’t exactly imagine himself dating a guy, either. 

“Did you like—how long have you known?”

“Honestly? About thirty minutes,” Lance admitted. “I mean, it was always there in the back, I guess, but. Never obvious enough for me to really notice.” 

Or for him to allow himself to notice, he supposed. 

“Oh, wow, today,” Hunk said. His eyes widened. “Dude—do you like someone?”

Lance sucked in a breath. That was a scary question—one that made it all seem too real. He shrunk in on himself, tugging on his jacket’s zipper. “Can we—can we not? This is enough to deal with for one day.”

“Yeah, of course,” Hunk said, and gave him a sincere smile that promised more than words ever could. 

 

~

 

In the end, Lance was only allowed a few hours with Hunk before Allura called everyone back to finish the mind meld exercise. He hadn’t realized how much time passed, but it was already after lunch.

“Oh, man,” Lance said after Allura’s announcement. “I’m so sorry, buddy. I made you miss lunch.”

Hunk shrugged. “Dude, there’s always going to be food later, but you only get crises this big like, once every few years. Priorities.”

Lance laughed and gave Hunk another hug. “I’ll give you half my portion for dinner.” 

The two headed toward the training deck, arriving after everyone else. Allura looked slightly annoyed with their delay, but Lance brushed it off. After all, he had expended enough energy both emotionally and physically during his and Hunk’s talk. He sat down and slipped his helmet on. 

He only hoped there weren’t any more intimate moments with Keith. The meld went somewhat smoothly, though the others interrupted every now and then to add commentary or ask questions. Lance wasn’t completely engaged until the near end. He mentally watched the group hugging Keith goodbye, despair written all over his other self’s face. He bristled, not liking that the rest of the team was now aware of it. He and Keith…must have been pretty close if he had been willing to look at him with that level of vulnerability while fully conscious and in the presence of others. But even still, Keith _leaving_? The possibility hadn’t even existed to Lance. 

“What was that?” His voice seemed to echo twice—once through his mind, and then the room. 

Keith opened his eyes and looked over curiously. “What?”

Lance held his face blank, leveled. “So that’s it? You just up and leave us? Leave Voltron?”

“Lance, I…” Keith said, and he looked uncomfortable. Good; Lance _felt_ uncomfortable. “We had too many Paladins. I wasn’t needed here—but I could still help the Blades.”

A corresponding memory flashed into the connection, one of him in Keith’s room. Lance flushed, not sure where the scene was headed; was it another embarrassingly intimate moment? But then it all went wrong: a discussion of too many Paladins and Keith’s insistence that things would all work out in the end. Lance’s reserved, disappointed expression during the talk, but his fond, reassured smile on exit. 

“Oh, man,” Hunk murmured while Lance flinched.

“So you just leave because of me?” Lance whispered, removing his helmet. How could Keith have thought that was what he wanted? What he needed? He needed a reminder of his place on the team, a friend who could reassure him—he needed _Keith_ , not a pity position in Voltron. 

“That’s not,” Keith started. He looked nervous. “I don’t… It’s not what you think.”

“Okay now,” Shiro said calmly. “We can talk about all this later. Let’s just finish up this exercise. We can talk when our minds aren’t all connected.”

Lance averted his eyes and reluctantly put his helmet back on. “Fine.”

“It’s almost done,” Keith said while he composed himself. “There’s only one more big battle before, well, I woke up back at the Garrison. The communication was pretty shaky, so I don’t exactly know what happened on your guys’ end.”

_You’d know if you had stayed with us_ , Lance thought. 

The memory was chaos compounded with a heavy fog of confusion that radiated from Keith’s uncertainty about Voltron’s status. Lance felt relief when it all seemed over, until one last memory played. Horrified, Lance watched as Keith directed his ship toward what would inevitably burst into deadly mechanical carnage. He wanted to vomit. He stood up violently and flung his helmet to the floor. He couldn’t be in the room anymore, not with everyone else there—not with _Keith_ there. He stalked off, offering no goodbye. 

By the time he entered the hallway, he was near running, desperate to escape the memory. He stopped just short of his room and leaned against the wall, panting. He slid down, bunching up his knees and wrapping his arms around them. 

Keith had almost died. He had been willing and about to sacrifice himself for Voltron. 

Lance took in a long, deep breath to stifle the inevitable tears. Everything just felt so overwhelming and hopeless; it had come to _that_ once, so what was stopping it from happening again? Even with insider knowledge, history had a tendency to repeat itself. Slowly, his heart rate returned to just above a normal speed and his breaths became shallower. He sat on the ground for a few minutes, numb. Soon after, he heard footsteps and scrambled to his feet. It was Keith, walking to his door, which Lance was incidentally standing right next to.

“Keith,” he said weakly.

“Don’t worry, I’m just heading to my room,” Keith said, trying to slip past him. And it was so good to hear his voice even though they had been apart only minutes. The memory had felt so realistic, so permanent and damning that Lance had nearly begun to doubt his reality.

“Wait,” Lance said, desperate, and wrapped his hand around Keith’s wrist. It was warm. Alive. Lance never wanted to move again. He would learn to use his bayard one-handed if it meant knowing with complete certainty that Keith was okay. Surprisingly, Keith waited. “I… I’m sorry I stormed out like that. I was just—Christ, I was scared.” He ran his free hand through his hair. “Even though you’re here, I really thought you were going to… That I was going to lose you.”

“Well, you didn’t,” Keith said. “Why do you even care so much? You don’t even like me now that you know I’m Galra.”

Lance frowned. Where the quiznak had Keith gathered that impression from? Lance _literally_ told Keith otherwise straight to his face. He knew Keith didn’t exactly catch subtlety all the time, but this was a whole new level of socially unaware. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up, that’s _not_ true.”

Keith tugged his wrist from Lance’s grasp and crossed his arms. “Okay, so you just happened to start avoiding me immediately after I told you I’m Galra.”

“….” Well, when Keith put like that, Lance looked like a jerk. And a liar. 

“I think I got the point you were making,” Keith said and took a step into his room.

Lance followed quickly. “Okay, that looks really bad, but it’s honestly not that, okay? I swear, Keith.”

Keith stopped and turned to Lance. He raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Explain.”

“…” Lance looked away, blushing. How was he supposed to explain his obsession with the fact that he wasn’t dating anyone in the future? Of his unlikely acceptance of it, but the still ever present itch in the back of his head reminding him that a part of him still cared. Of his confusion that followed his relief about him not dating Allura. That being around Keith intensified all of his uncertainty to an almost unbearable degree. “I can’t.”

“Wow, yeah, I figured,” Keith said, bitter. “I mean. You said you were okay with it. Why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t!” Lance insisted. If anything, he had been far too honest. “I really _am_ okay with that!”

“Then why were you avoiding me?”

Lance threw up his arms. He felt them trembling, pure adrenaline fueling their jittery movements. His mind was racing with fear and uncertainty and concern. “Because you confuse me! I—I’m so confused and I don’t know how to act around you anymore.”

Keith frowned. “Me being Galra confuses you?”

“What? No! Not _that_ ,” Lance said.

“Then _what?_ ”

Then what, indeed. 

And then it hit Lance, fast and hard and all at once; _he liked Keith_. 

He was relieved to not be dating anyone in the future because it meant there was some faint, abstract possibility that there was potential for him and Keith to be something more than just teammates or friends. Something that maybe he had wanted for far longer than he let himself acknowledge, something that was embedded within him even more securely than his sexuality. He sat down on the bed and covered his face with his hands, absolutely stunned. He tried not to visibly shake, the reality of his sexual orientation only now fully settling in. Of all the reasons, of all the people, and of all the _times_ —when he was in Keith’s room while said Paladin thought Lance hated him. Lance tried to undo the thought, to rewind and delete it, but it persisted. Now that the understanding had hit him, it seemed content to repeatedly remind him of its existence and strength. "Quiznak."

“Uh, are you okay?”

Lance lowered his hands and looked up at Keith. No, he was not okay. Not one bit. He was going through far too many crises for one day. It looked as though he would be slinking off to find Hunk soon again, but definitely not before splitting his dinner as a thank you. Then he realized something; he had never thought to ask if Keith was single in the future. It suddenly seemed like the most imperative piece of information. “Remember when I asked you if I was dating anyone in the future?”

“Of course,” Keith said and Lance’s heart fluttered. “It was like, the second thing you asked.”

Right. “Were you dating anyone?”

“Uh, no,” Keith said. He frowned. “Was this supposed to be some competition? Who would I even date?”

Lance shrugged and thought back to the kitchen with Keith’s smile and relaxed expression and _laugh_. It had been disgustingly charming, and Lance wanted to preserve it so badly. Even more than that, though, he wanted to be the one to provoke such a response. “I don’t know. Allura?” _Me?_

Keith stiffened. “So it’s still about that.”

“No!” Lance said and grimaced. Apparently, it hadn’t been about Allura for some time. News to him, he supposed. “Did you want to be dating anyone?”

“I never thought about it,” Keith said. The answer was dangerously hopeful. “We’re in war. Does it matter?”

“Probably not,” Lance admitted. It wasn’t like Keith was going to like him, even if he _did_ want to date. Hell, he didn’t even know if Keith was into guys. He…hadn’t exactly known _he_ was into guys, either. Had found them attractive and charming, sure, but all this felt different. Very different. He wanted to _date_ Keith—to, to _kiss him_. Quiznak. He stood up abruptly and shoved his hands in his pockets, avoiding Keith’s perplexed gaze. There was nothing good that would come from him being caught staring at Keith’s lips. “Shiro probably wants to talk plans, doesn’t he.”

“Yeah,” Keith said. He still looked unsure. “So…we’re good?”

Lance offered a strained smile; he was completely and utterly screwed. “Yeah, buddy. We’re great.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about such a long update wait; I got sidetracked with finals. Hopefully after June I'll be more consistent but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“I have some good news,” Shiro announced.

Keith and Lance had returned to the training deck after their conversation, only to find the others already gone and occupied with other responsibilities. Keith had opted to train the hours away, while Lance had sat in the corner, watching Keith and absently cleaning his bayard. Keith hadn’t exactly understood why Lance had to be on the training deck to do so, or why it had taken him two hours to polish the bayard, but Keith hadn’t found it in himself to be bothered by the quiet, gentle company. By the time he had showered and redressed, it had been time for dinner. Lance had been content to act as a bit of a shadow for the most part, following Keith’s path throughout the castle—save for Keith’s own room, thankfully; that would have been weird. 

As soon as dinner had finished, though, Lance had latched onto Hunk and, with no explanation, disappeared for the remainder of the night. Oddly enough, Keith had felt a faint sting of disappointment by it, which he attributed to growing loneliness and promptly dismissed. The next morning Keith barely saw Lance or Hunk, only having the chance to actually speak to them by the time lunch rolled around. 

And then right as Keith was beginning to ask Lance about his day, Shiro interrupted with his announcement of ‘good news’. Keith crossed his arms and stared at Shiro expectantly; the sooner he spoke, the sooner Keith could return to his not technically started conversation with Lance. 

Shiro continued: “I was able to fully connect to the Black Lion today.”

And okay, even Keith could admit that news was more important than talking to Lance. He perked up at the information and sent Shiro a proud and encouraging smile. Hindering Zarkon from seeing Voltron’s whereabouts so early on meant there was hope for the Blade of Marmora—hope for Ulaz and Thace to survive. 

“Nice!” Hunk said. “Space taco, here we come.”

“That’s fantastic, Shiro,” Allura said, looking proud herself. “This means we can contact Ulaz and proceed with our rescue of Slav.” 

“And the Olkari,” Pidge said. She drummed her fingers on the table impatiently. “We can visit them now, too.”

Shiro glanced at Allura and the two nodded in agreement with some unspoken question. “Why don’t we stop there first. Is that okay with you, Keith?”

Keith nodded. He wanted to see Slav to know for certain whether or not he was stuck in an alternate universe, but a small part of him also dreaded the finality of it. If it was an alternate universe, could he make it back? Was his counterpart in _his_ universe? He hated the thought of his sixteen year old mind thrust into the midst of a war that everyone else was far more prepared for. Not to mention how disconnected it would all feel, with everyone else bonded and connected for years by that point. Though even now he felt like that at times, especially with the others now aware that he wasn’t ‘their’ Keith by all definitions. 

But everyone here seemed to accept him regardless, which honestly was all he truly wanted. Even if he did miss his friends in the paradoxical way that Pidge seemed so unfazed by. 

“That’s fine with me, Shiro. It’ll give the Blades time to update their spies about Slav’s upcoming escape,” he said. 

Allura stood up. “I’ll input the coordinates for the planet now. We should be there shortly.”

“I can’t wait to meet them,” Pidge said, her tone awed. “Their technology is _incredible_ if Keith’s memories were even slightly accurate. They’ve adapted far beyond what anyone on Earth could have even dreamt of.”

“We’re also there to free the enslaved Olkari,” Shiro pointed out. “We need to keep that in mind when we land—it’s our priority. We should establish contact with the King as soon as we have a safe chance to do so.”

“Not to mention that weapon Zarkon sends,” Hunk said and shuddered at the memory.

“Will it even be finished when we get there?” Lance asked, wearing a solemn expression. He pushed his food goo around with disheartened movements. Keith wondered if he was still upset about seeing the sacrificial memory despite their earlier talk. He was being oddly quiet considering his usual excitement over joining any conversation that regarded Voltron. “Because if we’re going ahead of schedule, then we might be able to beat the Galra to the punch.”

Shiro nodded. “That’s a good point, Lance. We’ll proceed as though they’ve already completed it, but there’s also a good chance that we’re catching them early. That advantage could really help us.”

“I’m going to go suit up,” Pidge said, pushing her chair back from the table. She bolted out of the kitchen, leaving her still almost filled bowl of food goo behind, it rattling on the table from the speed. 

Shiro smiled at her enthusiasm and gently pushed her bowl to where two of the mice were congregating. The large one and the red one had followed Allura to the control room, but these two seemed more interested in the food. They gave squeaks of approval before they dug in to the goo. “I guess we can keep strategizing and fill her in on the details later.”

“I can’t wait to see Olkari again!” Coran said. He held up a small cube. “The last time I visited—mind you this was quite a few thousand deca-phoebs ago—they gifted me this cube!”

Hunk paled. “Uh, Coran, isn’t that the _weapon_ that the Galra wanted built?”

“It’s just the same design overall,” Keith said. “I don’t think the Olkari would have given Coran a weapon of mass destruction.”

“It’s better than a weapon! Watch this.” Coran threw the cube up and cleared his throat: “My name is Coran and I’m a gorgeous man.”

The cube repeated the words back to him instantly. 

“Man, that is pretty cool,” Hunk said. “I wonder if they’ll give the rest of us something like that.”

“We do get their promise to help against Zarkon,” Shiro said. “That’s more valuable than any cube.”

“Speak for yourself!” Coran said lightly as he grabbed his cube from the air. 

Shiro smiled before he turned to Keith. “Anything else we should be on the lookout for?”

“We need to be prepared for the next Ro-Beast, too,” Keith said. 

Even with the knowledge that having his memories gave Voltron the upper hand, Keith also knew that the more the two paths diverged, the more difficult it would be for him to keep track of it all. The sooner Voltron could take down threats that Keith still readily remembered, the better. He wondered how Slav didn’t go crazy trying to shuffle between all the realities and possibilities. 

Keith continued: “Zarkon’s army should either have it finished by now or will very soon. It could be really dangerous if we’re stuck fighting both the King’s weapon and the Ro-Beast at the same time, even while knowing how to defeat them. Both enemies took all of Voltron’s focus.”

“But Zarkon can’t track us anymore, right?” Hunk pointed out. “So it shouldn’t be a problem until _we_ find _him_.”

Keith thought for a moment. “I guess so, yeah. He can’t anymore. That…solves a lot of problems, actually.”

“He might be contacted if we land on Olkarion,” Lance said. “Since the King is so chummy chummy with the Galra, after all.”

“We should be on guard,” Shiro said. “As usual. If we can take down two enemies at the same opportunity, then that’s great. If not, though, we’ll still be better prepared for when we do face the Ro-Beast. We can plan an actual attack on the Galra after we rescue Slav. His knowledge will be crucial to our strategy.”

“Do you think he knows we’re coming?” Lance asked. “If he can see all these alternate universes, I bet there’s one out there where we’ve already rescued him.”

“Man,” Hunk said. “That’s super awkward, him knowing that we know that he knows.”

Lance scratched his head. “Wait, what?”

“If he knows, then he knows why we’re waiting to rescue him,” Keith said. At least, maybe Slav did. Honestly, Keith couldn’t make much sense of it, either. But in the grand scheme of it all, it was a better idea to first prevent the cube’s completion and rescue the numerous Olkari forced into building the weapon. Not that rescuing Slav wasn’t important, but it less time sensitive. 

“ _If_ it’s an alternate universe,” Hunk said. “And according to the calculations that Pidge and I ran, there’s about an eighty percent chance that it’s time travel you’re dealing with. Eighteen percent chance it’s an alternate universe. Two percent chance you’re in a coma right now and dreaming all of this up.”

Keith raised his eyebrows. “A coma, really? Isn’t that a little unrealistic?”

“Okay, but,” Lance said and gestured to the rest of the room. The blue mouse’s gaze followed his movement intently. It scurried over to him, nestling up against his jacket sleeve. Lance began petting it absentmindedly. “Time travel, alternate universes, and you’re calling the coma unrealistic, really?”

Keith crossed his arms. “Fine, point made.”

“Maybe we can get back to planning,” Shiro suggested.

“What’s even left to plan?” Hunk said. “We’ll be on Olkarion any minute now, and we already know what we need to do there.”

“You sound like Keith,” Lance teased. He squared his shoulders. “‘Planning? What’s that; I only know raw instinct and brooding’.”

“I don’t sound like that,” Keith said. All things considered, he was honestly just glad Lance wasn’t ignoring him anymore. It seemed like for once things were returning to normal—at least as normal as the universe would allow. Lance gave Keith a small, secret smile that he fought against reciprocating. The blue mouse watched curiously from behind Lance’s sleeve; Keith had never realized how intimidating the gaze of a rodent could be. 

“You kind of do, man,” Hunk said. 

Allura’s voice interrupted their debate: “Paladins! Get to your Lions. We’re approaching Olkarion’s atmosphere.”

Shiro stood up. “Okay, team. Let’s go save some allies.” 

 

~

 

It was nice to see Olkarion again. Its atmosphere and land held a certain similarity to Earth that brought an easy comfort. Pidge looked instantly enamored on principle alone. Even Lance seemed appeased by the lush greenery, his previously disheartened mood replaced with an interested contentment. 

As predicted, the Lions were pulled down to the forest by magnetic Olkari arrows. It was obvious that Voltron’s descent was regarded with unease and distrust like the first time around. Shiro announced their arrival as peaceful, a statement which was enough to prompt gasps and cheers from the Olkari. Ryner greeted them and introduced the other Olkari who had gathered around in excited curiosity.

“When the Galra attacked, only a few of us escaped the cities. We were forced to flee into the forest,” Ryner explained. She led the team through the forest and toward the main control sector. “They have our leader, Lubos.”

Everyone shared an awkward look. Shiro was the one to speak up: “Actually…we have reason to believe that your leader has been working with the Galra to build a super weapon while he lets his people starve.”

Ryner gasped. “How could that be?”

Keith stepped forward. “Don’t worry; we’ll stop the Galra and help free your people.”

“Of course,” Ryner said once she had taken a moment to collect herself. “Let me take you to the armory. We will prepare you for battle.”

“This doesn’t _look_ like an armory,” Hunk said, watching one of the Olkari stroke a flower. It soon morphed into a wearable gun. “Whoa!”

“Ahh, not everything is as it may seem, Paladins,” Ryner said. She rested a hand on a nearby tree. It lit up, green electrical strings climbing up the trunk to a branch and dropping an exoskeleton suit from one of the bulbs. 

“Cool!” Lance said with a wide grin.

“Uh, can I get one of those?” Keith stepped closer, his interest steady despite the lack of novelty. There really was something incredible about the Olkari technology; he understood why Pidge was so enamored by it. 

“Of course,” Ryner said. She collected a few crowns and began handing them to each Paladin. “You can each have one. Now, the key to operating it is understanding that the nano-cellulose responds to electrical impulses from the neural pathways connected through this.”

“Uhh,” Lance said. “Do what now?”

“It’s simple!” Pidge said as she fiddled with the headband. She stepped over to a tree and put her hand on the bark. She closed her eyes. “Just like this, Lance.”

Within seconds, a bulb dropped and an exoskeleton suit formed for her. 

“Yes!” Ryner said. “Excellent!”

Lance pursed his lips and pushed his hand against a tree. It stood unmoving. He placed his hands on his hips and leaned in to squint at it, unconvinced. “I think mine is just a tree.”

“You certainly have a knack for this,” Ryner told Pidge. “You must have a deep connection with nature.”

“Not exactly. It’s actually just like some of my data entries,” Pidge said from her seat inside the suit. “A simple mental equation, really.” 

“Pidge is our resident tech expert,” Shiro said with a smile. 

“Well that explains it,” Ryner said, pleased. 

Keith tuned them out as he tried to enable a suit for himself. He was pretty sure his was just a tree, too. He knocked on it for good measure: nothing. 

Lance looked over, wearing a sheepish grin. He swung his thumb in the direction of the others. “I’m glad that Pidge is over there having the time of her life, but I’m not really feeling it.”

Keith gave a small chuckle. He ran his hand through his hair, feeling the sweat that was relentlessly collecting. For a planet so green, the heat was immense. “Yeah, me neither.”

Lance leaned against his tree and smiled lazily. “So, you want to see how fast I can climb this tree?”

“Lance, we’re in the middle of a mission,” Keith said, a confused frown falling onto his face. What would climbing the tree solve?

Lance’s face fell slightly and he sighed, pushing himself off the bark. “Right, yeah. Never mind.”

Keith wanted to ask for clarification, but the others were already beginning a new conversation.

“I think we should just have Pidge give us a ride,” Hunk said. “Because mine isn’t working either, and this crown is just making my tongue itchy.”

“Good idea,” Shiro said. “Pidge, you mind giving us a lift so we can scope out the scene?”

“Not at all,” she said smoothly.

“Excellent,” Ryner said, smiling. “The Olkari people have faith in Voltron. Please, help those who were not fortunate enough to escape to the forest.”

“You can count on us,” Lance said and gave an exaggerated wink. He looked toward Keith, who offered a soft smile and a fond eye-roll. Lance beamed back before he turned to Pidge. “Start up your pretty lady, Pidge. We’ve got allies to rescue.” 

“So impatient,” Pidge said as she gripped her controls. They made their way toward the edges of the forest to observe the Olkari slaving over the cube. “What’s the plan, Shiro?”

“We need to know if they’ve finished the cube or not,” Shiro said. “And rescue Lubos, even if he is working against his own people. We’ll have leverage over the Galra if the cube isn’t finished yet, because they need Lubos’ information to complete the construction.” 

“If they’ve been on the same schedule, there’s no way the cube is done,” Keith said. 

“It definitely doesn’t look done,” Hunk said. “I think, that is. It really just looks like a cube either way.”

“It doesn’t look like the cube from Keith’s memory,” Lance added. 

“I’m on team unfinished, too,” Pidge said. “We’re what, a week early? Two?”

“Something along those lines,” Keith said. Regardless of the effort he had put in, his sense of time still felt insufficient. Days and weeks meant little to him now; he regarded time through whether or not events had taken place. With all the modifications he had made to the timeline, however, the method had recently become more trouble than it was worth. “Enough to make it count.”

Shiro nodded. “Pidge, you can drop me, Lance, and Keith on the roof. You and Hunk can head back and prepare with your Lions. Fly them as close as you can to the city without being detected and take note of how far along the cube looks. You’ll have to be prepared to take off at any point, though. We want to be able to switch focus as quick as possible.” 

“Got it,” Pidge said. “What about Allura and Coran?”

“They can provide air support if we need it,” Shiro said. “But I don’t want to risk fighting until the citizens are free. We can’t let them get caught up in the line of fire. Let’s get back to base and collect the Green Lion. We’ll use its cloaking ability to transport to the roof.”

The roof was unguarded, thankfully. Hunk had whispered ‘good luck’ and then he was gone, headed back toward the edge of the forest alongside Pidge. As soon as he hit the floor, Keith unsheathed his bayard and crouched slightly. Even with their quiet descent, there was no harm in being prepared for any chance of spontaneity. 

“Will Lubos even want to come with us?” Lance said, dragging his hand along the inner wall of the building. “Seems like the guy has been living pretty cushy.” 

“I’m sure he’ll think twice about his choice when his people see how he betrayed them,” Keith said. “And that the Galra have a tendency to double cross. This is the room.” 

As expected, Lubos was lounging in his chair with plates of food around him. He startled at their entry, and his eyes widened at the sight of Keith’s sword. He held up his hands, thankfully keeping them far from the alarm. “Oh! I don’t…I’m just a prisoner! Don’t hurt me!” 

“You can drop the act, Lubos,” Keith said, tone vitriolic. “We know you’re working with the Galra.”

Lubos stuttered and waved his hands. “But t-the citizens! It was for what was best…”

“Oh, save it for someone who cares,” Lance said. “You can either come with us and salvage the last bits of your dignity, or sell yourself out for the Galra who are going to drop you like a hot potato as soon as they don’t need you anymore.” 

“I…” Lubos looked between the team and La-sai before he sprinted toward the exit. 

“Grab him, Keith! He’ll set off the alarms!”

Keith lunged toward him and caught the edge of his collar. Lubos blubbered sorrowfully. 

“Pidge,” Shiro said into his comm. “We’ve got Lubos—none of the alarms have been set off yet.”

“Perfect,” Pidge said. “Hunk and I are in position; we can see the Olkari working from here. The good news is there’s no way this cube is finished. And then the bad news; there are guards watching the prisoners.”

Shiro hesitated. “We can’t interfere without risking injury.”

“We need to set off the alarms,” Keith realized. “On our way out—if we alert the Galra, they’ll all move toward here to stop Lubos from escaping because the cube isn’t finished yet and they still need him. And we can rush the prisoners out while they’re searching for him.”

“Great idea, Keith,” Shiro said. “Pidge, Hunk, did you two hear that?”

“Loud and clear, Shiro,” Hunk said. “Just let us know when to start moving in. We’ve got your backs.”

“ETA three minutes,” Shiro said and gestured for the others to follow him. “We’re heading back to the roof now, but we need to find an alarm to pull along the way. We’ll need you to pick us up on the roof, Pidge. Hunk, you’ll start freeing the prisoners as soon as the alarm goes off.” 

Keith paused on his way out of the door as another thought hit him. The others skidded to a stop next to him, the hallways squeaking underneath their feet.

“What?” Lance said. “What is it?”

“We have to be out of this building once the alarm is pulled, or else the Galra are going to swarm us,” Keith said slowly. “But someone has to set off the alarm, and the only alarm I know of in this place is in that chair.” 

Everyone was quiet for a moment. 

“I’ll stay and set off the alarm,” La-sai said. “One life is worth my people’s freedom.” 

“Hold on,” Keith said. “I’ve got a better idea. First, we’re going to have to find something to keep that door open.” 

 

~

 

“Lubos, La-sai, and I are on the roof, Pidge,” Shiro said. “Try to get here in the next twenty seconds.”

Hesitation. “What about Lance and Keith?”

“They’ll be here,” Shiro promised. 

“Fifteen seconds,” Keith said and started his jetpack. “It’s on the right side.” 

“Roger that,” Lance said. He readied his blaster. “Shiro, we’re in position.” 

“Five,” Keith said, sparing a look up at the roof. It was so far away. The others were only specks in the edge of his vision, what perhaps were just building tiles cleverly disguised as his friends. He tightened his arms around Lance’s waist; tangible—real. “Now, Lance!”

Lance fired once into the room and hit the chair straight on. The alarm immediately went off and Keith shot the two up into the air. He watched Galra soldiers erupt into the room as he and Lance flew out of sight and toward the roof. He sighed in relief, tugging Lance infinitesimally closer. 

Lance let out a satisfied whoop and fist punch. “All right! Another bullseye for Lancey-Lance.” 

“Nice shot, Lance!” Shiro said. “That’s why we bring our Sharpshooter.” 

Keith lowered them on the Green Lion and released Lance. He murmured, “Good job.”

Lance preened and went to respond, but Pidge interrupted him. 

“Guys!” She said. “I think the Green Lion is telling me what to do!”

“Shouldn’t we uh, wait and grab the other Lions?” Hunk asked. “I’ve loaded a few of the Olkari into the Yellow Lion already, but there are still a lot out here.”

Shiro looked to Keith. “Keith?”

Keith floundered; since when was he the team leader? “I…If Pidge knows what to do.” 

“I do,” she said. “Let’s go, girl!” 

Pidge flew her Lion in a quick half circle. Within seconds, the Green Lion shot a blast that shook the building at its base. Vines exploded from all sides of the structure, decimating it and creating a makeshift tree trunk. All of the Olkari workers, who had been watching the scene unfold, erupted into applause and cheers. 

“Nicely done, Pidge,” Shiro said. “Let’s get back to Ryner and the others. Hunk; it looks like we won’t need to evacuate anyone, but you can take the Olkari who have already boarded back to the forest to see their loved ones.”

Ryner’s face stiffened when she saw Lubos. “Lubos, is it true? Did you turn your back on our people?”

“I—I was just—”

“Enough,” Ryner said. “Your face says it all.” She turned to the team. “Thank you, Voltron. Without you finding our message we may have never stopped the Galra before their weapon was built. There’s no telling the kind of destruction it could have caused.” 

“Speaking of,” Pidge said with a sheepish expression. “My Lion _may_ have destroyed one of your buildings with its vines—sorry.”

“It’s no trouble,” Ryner said. “Now that the Galra are gone, we can rebuild the city.”

Various Olkari made rounds, thanking the Paladins profusely. And all too soon, they were back on the castleship and leaving Olkarion; Pidge in particular looked mournful. Keith lingered in the hallways, not sure what to do with himself. There was always training, but Shiro mentioned something about dinner that Keith had accidentally dismissed in favor of watching the Olkari wave goodbye. 

“Hey,” Lance whispered, and Keith hadn’t even realized he was still in the vicinity. He settled a warm hand on Keith’s shoulder. Ever since their mission on Olkarion, Lance had been suddenly more physical, in both presence and touch—not that Keith found himself minding. If anything, he found himself feeling oddly drawn to it. “Back there on Olkarion—that was some quick thinking with the alarm.”

Keith smiled. “Thanks, Lance. But it was your shot that let us escape.” 

Lance responded with a grin as he rubbed his neck. “So, uh. Did you see—”

“Great job out there, guys!” Hunk said, rounding the corner. Lance took a step back silently. 

“Yeah,” Keith said, sparing a quick look at Lance. Weird. “Thanks for having our back out there.”

“Anytime,” Hunk said. “So—oh. _Oh_.”

Keith raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Hunk held up his hands and looked toward Lance apologetically. “Sorry, my bad. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

“Interrupt…what?” Keith said. “We were just talking.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Hunk said. “Totally.”

“It’s fine, Hunk,” Lance said. “Really; he’s right.” 

Was Keith missing something? It looked like Lance and Hunk were having a nonverbal conversation through steady eye contact. Keith shifted on his feet, feeling excluded.

“We should probably head to the kitchen,” Hunk said, and he still sounded sorry. “Shiro wanted us to try to fit dinner in before we discuss how to rescue Slav.” 

“‘Course, buddy,” Lance said, wrapping an arm around Hunk’s shoulder. He looked over his shoulder. “Keith?”

“Right,” Keith said and fell into step with them. Despite the warmth of the castle and his suit, his shoulder felt cold. 

Dinner was a relatively quiet affair. The others seemed lost in thought, so Keith followed their lead and stayed silent. He didn’t have anything important to say, anyway. Afterwards, everyone filed into the control room.

“We can make plans to rescue Slav, now,” Shiro said. “We’ll contact the Blades and gather information on the layout of the ship he’s being kept on. I trust you know what he looks like, Keith?”

Keith nodded. “I’ll know for sure it’s him when I see him.”

“Perfect,” Shiro said. “We should scope out the design of everything to find the quickest and safest path to his cell. If we’re going to be on an enemy ship, we’ll want to split up the team to cover as many bases as possible. Pidge, the Green Lion’s invisibility is going to be a vital portion of this rescue like it was on Olkarion.” 

“I’m starting to feel like the team’s taxi driver,” Pidge said, but she was smiling. 

Shiro returned the smile. “We’re going to want this to be a quick mission, team. In and out. Lance and I will take one side of the ship; Hunk, and Keith—you two take the other. We’ll keep in constant contact on the off chance Lance and I stumble across Slav.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Hunk said.

“I’ll let Ulaz know we’re ready for the next step.”

“I’ll go with you,” Allura said. The two exited the control room. 

“So,” Hunk said and turned to the others. “You guys excited to meet him?”

Lance shrugged. “I mean, he’ll tell us what’s going on with all this time stuff, right? That’s pretty cool.”

“I’m more interested in what else could be on that Galra ship,” Pidge said. “There’s got to be information on it…maybe even about Matt and my father.”

“Keith?” Hunk encouraged. 

“Hmm?” Keith glanced around; the others looked on expectantly. “Oh, uh. I guess.”

“You guess?” Lance repeated. “Isn’t this like, what you’ve been waiting for?”

“Yeah,” Keith said. His stomach lurched with the thought of resolution; what would happen if he _was_ in an alternate reality? Would he be forced to leave the others? Could he even do so? “I guess.”

Lance frowned, but conceded. 

“I’m going to wait in my room until we hear back from the Blades,” Keith said and started for the door. 

“Uh, okay,” Hunk said. “See you?”

“Mmhm,” he said. 

Halfway down the hall, Lance caught up to him. He shot Keith a brief look before he shoved his hands in his jacket’s pockets. “Hey. Is everything okay?”

Keith blinked. “I’m fine, Lance.” 

“See, you say that,” Lance said. “But you’re even quieter than normal.”

Keith sighed and shrugged.

Lance bit his lip. He seemed to mentally convince himself of something, and took hold of Keith’s hand. He dragged the two toward his room. 

“Lance?”

“‘C’mere,” Lance said quietly and guided them inside. “So.”

“So,” Keith echoed and grimaced. “I don’t…I just…Ugh. What if all this _is_ an alternate reality?”

“Then…” Lance appeared to catch on. “ _Oh_. Then…Then we let you go back home.”

Keith wrapped his arms around himself. He felt his heartbeat against his ribcage, his ribcage against his forearms. There was a plummeting feeling inside of him, as though his chest was being forced up through his throat and then shoved back down to his knees. “But maybe I don’t want to go back.”

“…Keith?”

“Maybe I…don’t want to leave here,” Keith said softly. “Maybe I like it too much. You guys too much.”

“Things were bad back there,” Lance said. It was a blurred mixture of a question and a statement; he had, along with everyone, after all, seen Keith’s memories. 

“Maybe not bad,” Keith said, and he was growing sick of the word ‘maybe’, of the equivocal nature of this all, of never quite having absolutes he could confidently depend on. “But not this good. Everyone is…closer here. We work better as a team.”

Lance laughed gently and shook his head. “You and your obsession with the team’s performance. Why do I get the feeling that you wouldn’t want to go back even if we couldn’t form Voltron well here?”

Keith looked away. He didn’t respond. 

“Look,” Lance said. “No one’s gonna make you do anything. Heck, you could even ask Slav in private and just tell everyone it’s time travel no matter what. I know, I know—lying. But, I don’t know. It’s your choice.”

“I’m not going to lie,” Keith said. “It’s just…I’d miss you—all of you guys.”

“We’d miss you, too,” Lance said in earnest. “But I’m sure your team would be happy to get you back.”

“Yeah,” Keith said, hollow. Would they? How long had it been? How much had they changed; how much had he changed? And even beyond that, he felt strangely protective of this Lance—his Lance, he supposed. As ambiguous as the state of their friendship was at times, he didn’t want to leave Lance behind. 

“Keith…I…”

A voice echoed outside the door: “Keith?” 

“Pidge?” Keith replied. 

He looked to Lance for clarification, but Lance could provide only a helpless shrug. Keith opened the door to see Pidge standing a couple feet down the hall, next to Keith’s room. 

Pidge wrinkled her nose and took a few steps toward them. “Why are you in Lance’s room? Anyway, Shiro and Allura got in contact with the Blade of Marmora—they want to talk to you.”

Lance frowned and crossed his arms. 

“Me?” Keith chewed on his lip. “Okay.” 

“I’ll be modulating with Hunk in his room if you need me,” Pidge said and offered a quick wave before she was gone again. 

“Modulating?” Lance muttered under his breath. “Is that like sitting in a tree?”

“It has something to do with sound waves, I think?” Keith said as the two fell into step toward the control room. “I think Pidge tried to explain it to me at one point, but nothing really stuck.”

“I can relate to that,” Lance said. “Hunk’s a genius and I love him, but I’m glad he has Pidge to geek out with. Gives my brain a break.”

“A break from doing nothing?” Keith teased. 

Lance shoved him softly, a grin stretched out on his cheeks. “Like your brain can even think with that mullet consuming it.”

Keith shoved him back, their shoulders bumping against each other with every subsequent step. He could have shifted a bit to return the gap’s existence, but he didn’t for some reason. 

When they entered the room, Kolivan and Ulaz were on screen. Keith felt a pang in his heart; Kolivan had been his first thought when he woke up back at the Garrison. It was surreal to see him again now, magnified on a close but distant display. 

“He is the half Galra?” Kolivan asked. 

“That’s me,” Keith said. “It’s…nice to meet you.”

Kolivan and Ulaz shared a look before Kolivan cleared his throat. “Ulaz tells me you are already well acquainted with both of us.” 

“I am,” Keith said. “I had been training under your group, with you and Antok in particular.”

“Hmm,” Kolivan said. “I’m extending an offer for you to come visit headquarters. I’d like to further discuss what it is you know about our group and Zarkon.”

Keith looked to Shiro. “What about rescuing Slav?”

“We’ve decided on two quintants from now,” Shiro said. “That gives you enough leeway to spend some time at their base, if you’d like.”

“Yeah,” Keith said and turned back to the screen. “I would love to.”

 

~

 

Shiro, Lance, Coran and Allura surrounded him before his departure, as a sort of protective half circle. Keith didn’t think it important enough to interrupt Pidge and Hunk to announce his brief absence, so he gently turned down Lance’s offer to go retrieve them. 

“You know, we can come with you if you want, Keith,” Shiro said. He held a steady hand on Keith’s shoulder.“You don’t have to do this alone.”

Keith appreciated their unwavering support despite his whole habitual lying-by-omission ordeal that had transpired, but it seemed as though they were almost afraid of letting him out of their sight. A part of him felt like it was merely to retain an upper hand on the enemy through his knowledge, which he knew wasn’t right—his team, his _friends_ , were so much kinder than that—but nevertheless he couldn’t shake the feeling. Maybe it was just the severity of the situation setting in for all of them, the festering anxiety that plagued all notions of battle and choice. They _were_ at war, even if Keith was sometimes fortunate enough to successfully distract himself from the reality of it. It made sense that the need to check in and use a buddy system was practically second nature at this point. 

“It’s fine, Shiro,” Keith said. The visit felt like something he needed to do alone; a persisting hurdle in his reliving of it all that surrendered to no one but him. “I’ll relay any information they give me, but I think they just want to know how much I do. It shouldn't take very long.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I’ve seen how our alliance pans out, haven’t I?” Keith smiled. “The Blades have been a big help in our mission to defeat Zarkon, and having Voltron on their side means protection for them.”

“I meant more along the lines of moral support,” Shiro admitted. “But you’re right.”

“We’re just a call away if you need any aid,” Allura said. Keith gave her a warm nod, relieved by the progress they had made in their friendship. Their interactions didn’t feel stilted or forced anymore, and Keith had forgotten how much he missed that. 

Coran ruffled his hair. “Now you stay out of trouble, number four.”

“I’ll be back soon,” Keith assured and gave a short wave. The others waved back fondly. Lance watched attentively, but didn’t return the gesture, his arms still crossed in an uneasy fashion, fingers twitchy and tight. 

Red growled softly as they passed between a black hole and solar flares. 

“It’s okay, boy,” Keith said quietly and gripped the controls tighter. “It won’t be like last time.”

When the two first saw each other in person, Kolivan was silent. Most of the Blades were relatively quiet for the most part, though, so it was nothing out of the ordinary. In a way, Keith felt right at home in the noiseless atmosphere, but it was also a stark difference from being in the castleship. Sometimes it felt lonely, even if he did think that Lance sometimes unnecessarily filled the room with words and bravado. It had taken Keith some time to realize it, but he had come to the conclusion that he’d rather be in slightly too loud room than one that gave off a distant and reserved aura, one that seemed to suggest an unspoken distain for pointless chatter and non-mission related conversations. He liked the quiet, but he liked his friends more. 

Kolivan gestured for Keith to follow, and didn’t speak until they were deep within the base. Keith recognized the room immediately; it was one of the old training areas that had been repurposed into a meeting space not long after he had joined the ranks. It looked as though it was still being maintained as a place of training for now, if the tired mats and flickering timers were anything to go off of. Its poor lighting meant Keith had to squint for a moment to readjust his vision. Kolivan’s stern expression blinked into existence. 

“Show me the blade,” Kolivan said. He stood a good foot away from Keith; each man was on their own, empty side of the room. He held out his hand expectantly. Keith hesitated. The split second of uncertainty seemed to spurn Kolivan, and his eyes narrowed. Keith relented and handed over his knife. Kolivan examined it closely. “Hmm.”

Keith kept his eyes trained on the opposite wall, not wanting to look as though he was watching the scene before him; something gross and sickly churned inside him at the mere thought of someone else wielding his knife, even an ally. He didn’t want Kolivan seeing the unease painting his face and thinking him weak. 

Apparently satisfied after another moment, Kolivan returned the knife. Keith quietly pocketed it, pressing his hand against its sheath out of instinct. He felt a warm rush of relief flood his veins. Safe. 

Kolivan watched him do so. “And who entrusted this blade to you?”

“My mom,” Keith said. He wasn’t sure how much Ulaz had told Kolivan—he assumed everything, so perhaps all this questioning was just another test to be certain that Keith was telling the truth. Anything was better than going through the trails again, though. “I’ve had it all my life.”

Kolivan’s gaze was heavy and unforgiving. “And you’re from the future.”

The chariness in his voice was tangible, like sticky syrup that drenched Keith and weighed down on him; he drowned in it.

“We’re not sure yet,” Keith said slowly. He didn’t want to risk giving out inaccurate information, even if he believed it to be correct at the time. He knew it would inevitably be taken as an intentional affront or evidence to the contrary of his prior claims, neither of which would be beneficial to their potential alliance. The Blades were distrusting to an almost harmful degree, but at the same time it had kept their organization secret for far longer than Keith had been alive, so they must have been doing something correct. Not to mention, Keith was the first in line to question motive whenever Voltron met new planets and people, so he had no real place in criticizing Kolivan’s methods without criticizing his own. “We’re hoping the prisoner, Slav, can help us straighten everything out.”

“What is it that you already know about the Blade of Marmora?” Kolivan asked. 

“I was kept somewhat in the dark about most things,” Keith said, and tried not to sound embittered. He knew Kolivan’s reasoning behind the secrecy was more than logical. Keith was a new recruit, and young, and not even full Galra, if that mattered. It was a frustrating position to be in, though, not feeling fully a part of the Blades or Voltron. But it wasn’t Kolivan’s fault; it wasn’t anyone’s. “I know that your organization has been around for centuries fighting against the Galra empire and Zarkon’s rule. I know you have spies on the inside in various leadership positions, like Thace and Ulaz as commanders. And that Ulaz helped Shiro escape a Galra ship. I know your motto: Knowledge or death.”

“I see.”

“Just the basics,” Keith said. But it far more than an outsider had the right or ability to know, and he was sure Kolivan would be aware of that. 

“In order to establish an alliance, you must prove your loyalty,” Kolivan said after a moment of deliberation. “The trials of Marmora are sufficient means.”

Keith bristled. “I’ve already _been_ through the trails; I know the catch. I’m not supposed to go through the doors, I’m supposed to go underneath. There’s no point in me repeating them.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kolivan said, though Keith caught the spark of interest in his eyes. Knowing the intricacies of a private trial within an even more secret group had to count as some sliver of evidence in favor for his credibility.Apparently not enough, though. “Our organization is built on secrecy and trust. You must prove that you are willing to fight to back up your claims. You must be certain of the knowledge you have spoken here.” 

Keith was quiet for a moment while he simmered inwardly. He dug his nails into his palms and thought about it. The Blade’s nexus to Voltron was invaluable, for both parties involved. Voltron couldn’t afford to lose the potential alliance—especially not before they rescued Slav. He knew if he tried discussing the trials’ merits with the team, Shiro would refuse the alliance like last time. A well-intentioned sacrifice, but too narrow of a concern; Keith was one man at the end of the day, nowhere near the kind of power Voltron or the war necessitated. Enduring the trials would be a pyrrhic victory at best, but he _had_ already learned the point of it, and so it would likely be an ephemeral tribulation. At the very least, he could avoid the kind of bruising he garnered the first time around. 

He relented: “Okay.”

 

~

 

He didn’t want to talk about it.

 

~

 

Keith tried to slip straight into his room after landing back at the castleship. The others knew he valued his space, so he figured Shiro would likely advise the team to give him some time to unwind before reporting back with information on his visit. He hadn’t accounted for having to walk past Lance’s room, though.

The door whirled open and Lance poked his head out. “Keith? That you?”

Keith cleared his throat and inched toward his door, shielding his face away from Lance’s view. “I’m going to go take a shower—I’ll be out in a bit.” 

“Wait,” Lance said. He must have stepped out of his room, because Keith heard a door shut. He held his breath, willing himself into immobility. “How’d it go?”

“Fine,” Keith said softly. Lance was only a few feet behind him, based on the volume of his voice. “We’ve got their support as allies.” 

“Sweet,” Lance said. “Uh, any reason why you’re talking to the hallway instead of me?”

Keith didn’t reply. He felt a hand on his shoulder, an unspoken invitation to turn around. He swallowed and shifted to face Lance. To avoid eye contact, he stared at the middle of Lance’s forehead. He had a widow’s peak; Keith had never noticed before. 

Lance’s gaze darted across Keith’s face as he dropped his hand. “Your eye.”

It had to have turned purple by now. He knew the moment he was hit that it would turn into an ugly black eye, but he was hoping to sneak a trip to the healing pod before confronting the others. “I know.”

Lance cupped Keith’s cheek and slid his thumb close to the bruise. Keith held in a breath and a flinch at the near contact. Suddenly, his body couldn’t produce enough blood and his brain enough thought. 

Lance murmured, “What did they do to you, Mullet?”

“They didn’t do anything,” Keith said, gently batting Lance’s hand away. Keith lowered his hand and curled it into a fist, drawing it close to himself. It was visibly unmarred thanks to his gloves, but he could still feel the dull ache behind the skin, could still see the minute shakes that wracked his hand. “I chose to. They asked me to prove Voltron’s loyalty, so I did.” 

The serious expression that Lance held looked so out of place. “There are other ways we could have proved our loyalty. You didn’t have to go get beat up to prove a point.”

“I didn’t get beat up,” Keith protested. At least not compared to the first time. “Look, I’m not in the mood for a lecture, Lance. I already knew what the Blades were like when I offered to visit their base. It’s not a big deal. I’m just—going to take a shower and then go to the healing pod. Kolivan said he would send us the layout of the prison Slav is in. He wants to convene with us all in three vargas.”

“Hey, uh, punch me if I’m out of line, but you look like you could use a hug,” Lance said. 

Keith was quiet for a moment. 

Lance held up his hands. “I get it, I get it. Just an offer.”

Keith cleared his throat again and gave a quick, sharp nod. 

“Oh,” Lance said. “Yeah, okay. C’mere.” 

Lance took a step closer and wrapped his arms around Keith, one curling around his neck and the other draped across his back and coming to rest on his waist. Keith encircled both his arms around Lance’s back and pressed his forehead against Lance’s shoulder. He let out a sigh; now that his body was at rest, it didn’t want to move. 

“We really could have gone with you,” Lance said softly. He stroked the skin on Keith’s neck, which drew a shiver. Keith closed his eyes, hoping it would slow the racing of his heart. 

“I know,” he said. 

They stood there for a good minute in silence. Eventually, Lance sighed and nudged Keith’s head with his own. Keith lifted his head and looked up at Lance expectantly. 

“As nice as it sounds, we can’t just stand here all day hugging,” Lance said. “We should get you to a healing pod.” 

Keith hesitated. “But the shower?”

“After,” Lance promised. He gnawed on his lower lip for a moment; Keith watched the movement. “Say, uh. The trial wasn’t like, to become a member, right?”

“What? No,” Keith said. “I mean, not that they wouldn’t give me membership. But that’s not what that was.”

Lance sighed with relief and took a step back. “Okay, good. I was worried for a moment there that you were going to leave us.”

“Well…”

Lance frowned. “Don’t tell me.”

Keith ran a hand through his hair. There were still patches of dampness, but his sweat had dried for the most part; he couldn’t wait for a shower. “It—it would make sense, though. Allura could take over Blue and you could take over Red. You saw the memories. I can’t take that experience away from Allura. Her father _built_ Voltron; she deserves to be a part of it.”

“Allura’s not like that,” Lance said. “She wouldn’t make you leave Voltron just so she could pilot a Lion.”

“She doesn’t have to make me,” Keith said. “I’d be choosing to. And she’s seen herself flying it now. Wouldn’t you be curious? Wouldn’t you want to try it out? I don’t want to hold her back. Or, or you.”

“Keith,” Lance said. “You can’t really think that the best move would be for you to leave Voltron—again.”

“Not immediately,” Keith said. “I’d want to wait until after we rescued Slav.”

“Oh, well,” Lance said sarcastically. “A warning a whole quintant in advance; how kind of you.”

“Be reasonable, Lance,” Keith said. He stomach lurched with a feeling he couldn’t quite place. 

“Me? I’m not the one who’s thinking about ditching the team again! This is—this is just like you, too. You run away whenever things get tough and you don’t even think about how everyone else feels.”

“What are you talking about?” Keith crossed his arms. He felt his defenses rising, the ache of distress and anger needling him. “I’d be leaving for _you,_ and Allura.”

“Oh my God,” Lance said, voice distant and near incredulous in its tone. He gripped Keith’s shoulders. “That’s not what I want. That’s not what I want, okay?”

“…Okay,” Keith said. He waited for clarification.

Lance rested his head on Keith’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to leave. Not again.”

“Again? Lance, I was gone a few vargas at most.”

“I meant the Garrison,” Lance whispered. 

Keith blinked. “What? But we hardly talked there.”

“I know,” Lance said with a sigh. He lifted his head and looked away at the wall, his expression grim. “Which is why it was so dumb that it bothered me so much when you left.”

“Lance?”

“Nu uh uh,” Lance interrupted. “I’m not finished. Here we’re actually friends. And so, so I don’t want to think about how much _more_ it’s going to bother me if you leave again. So just, just stop running away.”

Keith settled his hands on Lance’s shoulders. “I can’t promise that I won’t train with the Blades, but I’ll stay with Voltron for now. For as long as me being here actually helps.”

Lance pulled away and shook his head. He let out a sad laugh. “I don’t understand how you do this to me.”

“Do what?” Lance just shook his head again. “Lance, do _what_?”

“Let’s just get you to a healing pod,” Lance said and directed him down the hall. Neither spoke for the remainder of the journey.

Keith was alone when he woke up. 

After a much needed shower, Keith offered the others a short retelling of his time at the base, leaving out any mention of the trails. Lance watched the scene with heavy eyes, but didn’t interject with any commentary. During the team’s meeting with Kolivan, he stood exceptionally close to Keith, as though he was afraid Keith had been lying through his teeth about not leaving. He wasn’t—for the most part. He really didn’t want to be the sole reason Allura was barred from flying the Blue Lion, whether intentional or not. 

“We’ll need to plan an attack on Zarkon soon,” Shiro said. “He’ll be ready to unleash the Ro-Beast at any point, and we should try to intercept it before he decides to test run it on any planets.”

“I have a spy on the inside,” Kolivan said. “We have been planning an attack for some time now. We can time them together.”

“Perfect,” Allura said. “We’ll need to gather supplies before we take on Zarkon; we cannot risk any setbacks while we have the upper hand. We have to pick up a crystal from the Balmera and scaultrite from a Weblum. Coran, you will come with me to Balmera. Shiro and Hunk, you two will seek out the scaultrite from the Weblum. Pidge, Keith, and Lance, you three will locate Slav and bring him back to the base. We will set out tomorrow morning.” 

“Sounds good, Allura,” Hunk said. 

Keith’s chest constricted with fear and excitement; he was finally going to gain some answers.


	8. Chapter 8

 

The ship was far too large for it to reasonably hold only one prisoner. Keith glanced down the left hallway, and then the right; both directions seemed to endlessly span on and on. 

“Talk about overkill for one dude,” Lance said. He slouched pointedly, leaning the majority of his weight on his right side as he slung an arm around Keith’s shoulder. “So where is he, Samurai?” 

“How would I know?” Keith said. “Pidge is the one who hacked into all the data. I didn’t even go on this mission before. You, Pidge, and Shiro did.”

“There are two cells,” Pidge interjected, frowning at her holographic visual of the ship. “One on each end of the ship, which doesn’t make sense if Slav is supposed to be the only prisoner here. Are you sure you’re remembering this all correctly, Keith?”

“I’m sure! Look, one of the cells has to contain that weird pet thing that Lance found,” Keith said.

“Wait, what weird pet thing that I found?”

Keith gestured aimlessly, nearly hitting Lance in the process due to their proximity, which, incidentally, was already doing something weird to his brain. He took it in stride—for the most part—and focused on the mission’s details. “Some—some alien creature that was a pet to the Galra. You went on about it for a good week after the mission took place. It just said ‘Yup’ to everything.”

Lance’s eyes lit up and he squeezed Keith’s shoulder. “We gotta save Yup!”

“I’m with Lance on this,” Pidge admitted. “We can’t leave a prisoner. It’s just wrong.”

“It…It’s not a prisoner,” Keith said. “Trust me; the Galra are weirdly loving to it. It’s like their dog or something. Like Kaltenecker.”

“Kalte-what-now?”

Right; they hadn’t needed to visit the Space Mall here. Maybe Coran and Allura would permit them to make a short trip, if for no other reason than to let Pidge buy her video game and Lance acquire Kaltenecker. He’d want to avoid Coran’s ridiculous costumes by all means, though. 

“She’s a cow,” Keith said. “But that’s not important right now.”

“A…cow?” Lance repeated. “In space? _A Space Cow_?”

“Sorry to interrupt this extremely interesting cow discussion you two are having in the middle of enemy territory,” Pidge said. “But I still don’t know which end of the ship Slav is on. I don’t have any visuals on the cells from here, so you’ll have to just guess. Split up, maybe?”

“No,” Keith said. He didn’t want to risk the Yup-dog alerting Galra guards. “Just. Give me a minute to think. I’ll remember it.”

Lance let go of Keith, stepped away, and stretched, bending his back against his hands. He let out a long sigh at the audible crack that followed. “Well, if we’re splitting up, I want the closer end of the ship. My feet are tired.”

“Wait,” Keith said, and his eyes snapped to Lance who stared back at him in confusion. “That’s it—Slav is in the farther cell.”

“Care to explain?” Pidge asked. 

“That’s what Lance said last time,” Keith said. The pieces were all falling into place; he was relieved Lance liked to retell every mission to the members who weren’t present. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t remembered it sooner. “When he was retelling the story about the alien dog. He picked the closer cell to check, and he was the one who found it.”

Lance was staring at him with an odd expression. “You remembered that?”

“I…” Keith flushed and he crossed his arms. “Yeah? What of it?”

Lance turned his own shade of red. “N—Nothing. Just didn’t know you listened that close.”

There was a brief silence. 

“I’ll head to the command center to try and access the security system,” Pidge said after a tic. Keith mentally thanked her for dispelling the awkward tension that was beginning to smother him. “The farther cell is on the left end of the ship.”

“Thanks, Pidge,” Keith said. He turned to Lance and dropped his hands to his sides. “Let’s go.”

“Sooo,” Lance said as they headed down the hall. “This Space Cow.”

Keith kept his eyes trained on the path before him. “You get her at the Space Mall that we went to.”

Lance was quiet for a moment while he thought over the words. “Were you there?”

“Hmm? At the mall? Yeah.” Keith surveyed the hallway before he darted across to the other side. He turned and frowned, motioning for Lance to follow. “Hurry up.”

“Why didn’t we see the memory?”

Oh.

“Oh,” Keith said, his mouth going dry. “That, uh. That was when I was dealing with the whole Galra knife thing. I…I skipped over it in the mind meld.”

Lance hesitated. He shuffled closer and wriggled his hand underneath the helmet’s visor and back onto Keith’s cheek, inches from where the bruise had been only a day ago. “The trials, then.”

“Yeah,” Keith said. He briefly leaned into the touch, wishing he held both the time and confidence to linger. “We should get back to the mission.”

“Right,” Lance said and stepped back. “Slav.”

“I’m in,” Pidge said, sounding as though she had been waiting for an opening to interrupt. “It looks like the top level is patrolled by sentries. The second level is patrolled by floating drones. Oh… that’s interesting.”

“Good interesting?” Lance asked.

“The second level also has immobilizing foam,” Pidge said.

“Oh,” Lance said flatly. “So bad interesting.”

“Keep going, Pidge,” Keith said.

“The third level is a closed system,” Pidge admitted. “I can’t get in from here.”

“What do you mean?” Keith asked.

“No single location can access the entire prison; it’s a security measure,” Pidge said. “When you reach that level, you’ll have to link me in.”

“We’ll let you know when we’re there,” Keith said and looked to Lance. “You good?”

“Awesome,” Lance said. “Try to keep up with me, Mullet.”

Keith rolled his eyes and the two jogged down the hall, skidding to a stop when they encountered a Galra sentry patrolling the next section. Keith paused for half a second before he lunged forward and sliced into it, its upper half sliding off his bayard and to the floor. Uncovered, splintered wires sparked and generated electrical spasms in the bot’s chest. 

“Okay,” Lance said from around the corner. “That works, then.”

“I’m sending a drone to scramble the monitors,” Pidge said. A small, triangular drone flew toward them. “You said it was on the left side, Keith?”

“Yeah. This should be it, Pidge,” Keith said. 

“Got it,” she said. “Let me find a way in for you two. Hmm. Open the panel next to you two and one of you connect your gauntlet so I can hack in.”

“Dibs!” Lance called. “Since you stole my kill and all.”

Keith suppressed a smile. “Be my guest.”

“Awesome, guys,” Pidge said when Lance finished the scan. Keith could hear the faint tapping of her fingers. “Now I have access to level three. Opening the entrance.”

Keith and Lance walked forward, only to be met with another door.

Lance crossed his arms. “Is it just me or are these doors getting bigger?”

“Pidge, open the cell for us,” Keith said.

“I…can’t,” Pidge said. “It won’t let me from here.”

“Well, that’s just great,” Lance said. “We came all the way here and we can’t get through the last door. There has to be some sort of way in, right? A toll? A riddle?”

“Doesn’t look like there’s a key or anything,” Keith said. “Pidge, can you scan the door or something?”

“On it,” she said. A pause. “Looks like it’s facial recognition. You guys are going to need to get a scan of whoever guards the door.”

“How are we supposed to do that? We can’t just wait around until someone decides to patrol this sector of the ship,” Lance said. “That’ll take forever!”

“I’ll look for a way around the restriction,” Pidge said. “Try to think of something else in the meantime.”

Keith looked at Lance. “Any ideas?”

“Well, we don’t know the guard’s patrol schedule, right? If we set off a distraction or something, maybe they’ll come running over here?”

“We don’t want to let anyone know we’re here,” Keith said. They had the upper hand, and he wasn’t willing to lose it for a mere distraction. “Especially not when we have the Blue Lion aboard. So it’ll have to be a distraction where we aren’t seen.”

Lance looked around the room and hummed. “Not much to work with here. I could like, shoot the wall or something?”

“Do you think someone would even hear that? This place is so big.”

“Guys, I see a guard on the floor below,” Pidge said. “I’m sending my drone over to scan his face.”

“Thank God,” Lance said. “I was _not_ bringing my A game on those plans.”

“You were doing fine,” Keith assured absentmindedly. It wasn’t the best time for him to lose his focus, but he couldn’t stop his mind from returning to thoughts about time travel versus alternate realities. The closer he came to finding answers, the more the thoughts consumed him. “Your plans are always good.”

“Oh. Uh, I…T—Thanks,” Lance said in a small voice. 

“Got it! I’m creating a 3D render of his face and sending it to you,” Pidge said. 

A holographic face popped up on Lance’s gauntlet. Keith and Lance shared a look, nodded, and Lance scanned the face on the security screen. The door groaned open to reveal Slav, who was hiding behind his bed. Lance instinctively cocked his bayard. 

“It’s him,” Keith said after studying him for a second. Lance lowered his gun. “That’s Slav.”

Slav’s eyes narrowed. “Are you here to torture me?”

“No, dude,” Lance said. “We’re here to rescue you. We’re Paladins of Voltron.”

“Oh!” Slav’s face lit up as he rounded the corner of the bed. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“We need to get going before the Galra show up,” Keith said. “They don’t know we’re here for now, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Ahh, yes,” Slav said. “Just after I fix these blankets…”

Lance turned to Keith. “Was he this crazy in your timeline, too? Or are we just lucky?”

Keith sighed and rubbed his cheek. “He—He has OCD or something. He’s no crazier than the rest of us.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Lance said with a wince. “Quiznak, that really sucks.”

Keith nodded and they watched Slav for a minute as he fiddled with the blankets. Every time Slav seemed satisfied with his work, he would stare blankly at the bed for a moment before promptly shaking his head and beginning anew. 

“How long is he going to keep this up?” Lance whispered.

“Err, let’s go, Slav,” Keith said, shifting toward the door a bit. He paused and turned when Slav didn’t so much as look up from the bed. “Come on!” 

Slav jumped at the volume and harshness of the tone. He sighed and looked at the blankets with disappointment. “Now I have to start over…”

Keith groaned; so much for getting out of there quickly. 

“I think the blanket’s fine,” Lance said, voice awkward. 

Slav paused and narrowed his eyes. “You’re right; it’s the puddle outside.”

“The puddle,” Keith repeated dully. 

Slav nodded vigorously. His eyes were wide with fear. “There’s a 12% chance I could slip. There are even realities in which I drown because, in those realities, I never learned to swim!”

“Okay, well, can you swim in this reality?” Lance asked. He was a lot more patient than Keith was willing to be at the moment. 

“I can’t remember!”

Lance puffed out his chest. “No problem; I’m the Blue Paladin and I can swim really well! I’ll carry you on my back. That way even if the puddle’s actually deep, you’ll stay safe!” 

“…That is acceptable,” Slav said. “This plan only fails in 5.3% of realities.”

“Awesome,” Lance said lightly and bent down. “Hop on.”

Slav scrambled onto Lance’s back and held on tightly. Keith offered Lance a surprised, but grateful, look. 

“That…actually worked,” Keith said, impressed. 

Lance smirked. “Of course it did. Who could say no to this face?”

Keith smiled softly. “No one, I guess.” 

Lance gulped and gave a shaky smile back. “R—Right. Pidge, we’ve got Slav and we’re heading back.” 

The walk back was overwhelmingly centered on Slav’s nervous ramblings about percentages and alternate realities. Lance had offloaded Slav to the floor halfway to the Blue Lion, complaining that his arms were tired and there were no more puddles anyway, which had only made Slav more flustered by the newfound hazard of cracks in the ground. Apparently, they were even more dangerous than puddles. Eventually, Keith’s patience snapped and he stopped walking.

“I need to know,” he said. If Slav was going to prattle on, he may as well say something worthwhile. “Is this an alternate reality that I’m in or time travel? I’ve…seen all this before. I don’t know how, if—if it was a wormhole or a blackhole or what.” 

“Oh, yes,” Slav said and nodded with a level of certitude Keith didn’t know was possible, as though Keith himself hadn’t been stressing over hypotheticals for the past year—had it really been that long? A full year of being stuck in the unknown? Slav studied Keith. “This is definitely a product of time travel, not an alternate universe. That is the case in 99.42% of realities.”

“Oh,” Keith said, voice small. He was unsure of how to feel about the answer. Everything had been building up to this moment, but the payoff felt small: dull. It wasn’t a letdown per se, but the ending of something that he perhaps didn’t want to let go of just yet. Lance hesitantly grabbed his hand. Out of instinct, Keith gravitated toward the warmth. It felt like hope.

He didn’t have to leave; at least, not in the traditional sense. The Blade of Marmora’s membership still hung ominously over his head, sharply prodding his sense of newly established security. It would mean letting Allura and Lance take over their respective Lions, letting himself find further answers about his past and family. At the same time, he felt a conflicting urge to stay in Voltron’s grasp, tightly tethered to his teammates out of fear of losing them again. When he had woken up back at the Garrison, his nexus to Voltron had been strained and weakened, a battery near out of charge and in need of replacement. Maybe all this meant he was being given a second chance to connect to his friends, too. 

A tug on his hand pulled him back to reality. Lance was looking over at him with a flicker of concern adorning his facial features; the sharp slopes of his forehead, the furrowing of his brows, and the subtle twitch of his downturned lips. 

“Right,” Keith said and cleared his throat. He released Lance’s hand and turned around, his heart pounding with unwarranted adrenaline. “Let’s get back.”

 

~

 

The others were relaxing in the lounge when the four of them returned. Everything still felt on edge, for Keith. His body was on fire with a sense of urgency and finality while he shifted in place in the doorway. Nowhere felt stable.

“So what’s the next step?” Hunk asked. “We’ve collected everything we need to launch the teludav, right?” 

“Almost,” Allura said. “We’re just waiting on the others to arrive with Slav and Kolivan’s spy to contact us about the Galra’s status.”

“Oh, right—oh, hey! Finally,” Hunk said. “We’ve been waiting for you guys for half a varga.”

“We had a little delay on the security side,” Pidge said. She gestured to her right. “This is Slav.”

Shiro’s eyes darted to Keith. “So, is everything figured out?”

“It’s time travel,” Keith said quietly. It felt weird saying it out loud, now that it was for certain. For how long had he debated it? Denied or refused it? “Slav confirmed it.”

Allura smiled warmly. “Fantastic; then we’re on the right path.”

Coran poked his head into the doorway. “Princess, Kolivan is on the tele-communicator.”

Everyone gathered in the control room, surrounding the large screen that projected Kolivan and Ulaz. 

“Princess,” Kolivan said. “Thace has just notified us about a Ro-Beast that Zarkon has finished building. He plans to unleash it after locating Voltron.”

“He’s kind of out of luck,” Hunk said. “Since the Black Lion rejected him and all.”

“You’re right,” Shiro said. “But we’re taking the fight to him this time. We’ll have to be ready to attack both the Ro-Beast and Zarkon when we make our strike.”

“Which one are we going to target first?” Lance asked. “‘Cause if we go after the Ro-Beast first, Zarkon will see and have time to plan an attack. But if we go after Zarkon, the Ro-Beast could interrupt the fight and whoop our butts!”

“Thace has set up a bomb within the command center,” Kolivan said. “Voltron can target the Ro-Beast while we create a distraction on board.”

Keith frowned. “He has to make sure the code is correct. In the, the other timeline, the Druids changed it.”

Kolivan nodded. “Noted. I’ll inform him immediately.”

“How long will it take you to build the teludav, Slav?” Ulaz asked. 

Slav thought for a moment. “It shouldn’t be longer than a quintant provided I begin immediately.” 

“So now we just, wait?” Hunk asked. “Seems a little anti-climactic.” 

“Sounds like it,” Pidge said. “But I found some information about Matt while I was on the Galra ship earlier.”

“Yeah?” Hunk turned to face her. “Give me updates.” 

“Let me grab my laptop,” Pidge said and headed out of the room, Hunk on her tail. 

“We will contact you tomorrow,” Kolivan said. “And proceed with the plan.”

Allura nodded. “Thank you, Kolivan, Ulaz.”

The screen went black and the others started for the door. 

Lance looked to Keith. “Now that we’ve got time to kill, there’s a spot on the couch with my name on it.”

Keith gave a small smile. “I’ll probably hit the training deck myself.” 

“What? Nuh uh,” Lance said with a shake of his head. He put his hands on the back of Keith’s shoulders and guided him toward the door. “You need to unwind for once, Mullet.” 

“But Lance—”

“Nope, sorry,” he said. “I can’t hear you over the sound of you relaxing so much.”

Keith snorted and resigned himself to his fate, loosening his muscles as he leaned into Lance’s grip. “That doesn’t make sense. And you’re not even going to change out of your uniform?”

Lance paused and let go of Keith. He looked down at his Paladin armor. “Oh. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

“I’m going to go change, too,” Keith said.

“Meet me in the lounge!” Lance said and jabbed a finger to Keith’s chest. “And you better not be using the uniform as an excuse to ditch. Because I’ll drag you out there myself if I need to.”

“I _promise_ ,” Keith said and headed toward his room. He was quick to change, but lingered in front of his door for a bit. He knew Lance hadn’t been lying about physically dragging Keith to the lounge, and he wasn’t trying to suggest otherwise by delaying. But there was a tight tug in his chest that made him hesitate. He drew his hand to the offending spot and clenched, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt and nails scraping bluntly against his chest. Taking a deep breath, he dropped his hand and walked out. 

Lance, unsurprisingly, was already relaxing on the couch, near horizontal in his stretch. He perked up at the sight of Keith entering the room, and straightened slightly. “I was starting to think I really _was_ going to have to drag you.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t just opt for a nap,” Keith admitted as he advanced down the steps. Lance certainly looked tired enough, and he was practically lying down already. 

“I…haven’t been sleeping the best, actually,” Lance said with a blithe shrug. 

Keith frowned. “No?”

“It’s whatever,” Lance said quickly. 

“Why not?”

Lance swallowed thickly. “I don’t know, honestly. Sometimes it’s so quiet, I guess.”

“I thought you wore headphones to make it quiet,” Keith said as he sat down on the arm of the couch. He didn’t want to encroach in on Lance’s space, even if Lance was taking up half of the couch. 

“Actually,” Lance said. He scratched the back of his head. “They play music. It was always loud at my house,especially when I shared a room with Luis, but when I went to the Garrison I was alone in my room. It was too quiet, so I used headphones for background noise, and I’ve been doing that here, too.”

“Oh,” Keith said. 

“It’s stupid,” Lance assured. “It’s like, the music plays but my brain tells me that behind it everything is silent, so that keeps me up. At least at the Garrison you’d sometimes hear the guards roaming around.”

“Huh,” Keith said. “I guess you could stay in Hunk’s room if it got really bad. I’m sure he’d let you.”

“It’s fine,” Lance said. “I’ll get used to it.”

“You’ll be tired on the battlefield in the meantime, though,” Keith said. “That’s a liability, for the team and for yourself.”

Lance gave a broken laugh. “Glad to see you’re so concerned about me.”

“I am,” Keith said sharply and Lance startled, his eyes wide and questioning. “I don’t want you to get hurt, especially over something that could be avoided if you just got more sleep.”

“Yeah,” Lance said with a sigh. 

Keith studied him. “You, uh, miss your family?”

“Of course,” Lance said a little too harshly. He deflated, shoulders hunched defensively. “I…I can’t even call or text them to let them know I’m okay. I can’t even write them a letter. I didn’t even get to tell my mom I love her the week we got sent out into space.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith said softly. 

Lance shook his head and lowered it. There was a small sniffle. 

“Err,” Keith said. “You look like you could use a hug?”

Lance looked up, tears making his eyes shiny. “W—Wait, really? Is that a question or an offer?”

“Both?”

Lance rubbed his arm across his nose. “Yeah.”

Keith slid down onto the couch cushion and held his arms out awkwardly. Lance lunged forward and practically molded himself against Keith, who tried to conceal a stuttered gasp at the force. Lance’s hands bunched up in the back of Keith’s shirt; considering Keith had done the exact motion to the front of his shirt earlier, it was going to need to be flat ironed at this rate. Letting out another miserable sniffle, Lance shifted against Keith to pull himself closer and settled his legs against Keith’s closest thigh. Keith placed one hand on his back and used the other to rest on the top of Lance’s head. He smoothed down the hair there in slow, methodical strokes. Lance lowered his head onto Keith’s shoulder with a contented sigh. 

“Thanks,” Lance said quietly and Keith just tugged him closer. 

“We’ll get you back to them,” Keith said after a minute of quiet. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Eventually, Lance began to pull back and Keith reluctantly capitulated, letting him go. Lance provided a short, shy smile and reclined back into his prior spot. His cheeks were flushed just a tad, and he fidgeted with undecided movements. 

“So,” Lance said after a minute, and Keith was relieved; he hadn’t known how to resolve the awkward silence himself. “Guess you’re stuck here with us.” 

Keith smiled. “I guess that’s not the worst outcome.”

“Don’t you like, miss your old team?” Lance scrunched up his face. There were still thin tear stains streaked down his cheeks, but his eyes were dry now. “Or whatever.”

“A bit, yeah,” Keith admitted with a shrug. It all seemed so distant now, a faded memory that was likely more estimated experiences than actual history at this point. He thought back to Pidge’s words from earlier. “I spent years with them. But, everyone’s still here. Just, different.”

Lance shifted to face him more directly. “Better different?”

“Maybe? I think…I think that maybe you all were still there in them, just waiting for me to make the right choices.” His team was still his team, but they just seemed more open now, more connected. 

“You’re thinking awfully highly of yourself there,” Lance said with a sly smile. “We were all just waiting for you, huh?”

“I was, too,” Keith decided and he watched Lance’s face carefully. “I just didn’t know it at the time.”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “So you would go back again if you were given the chance?”

Keith hesitated. He studied Lance, who was sprawled out on the couch, his long limbs taking up an almost inordinate amount of space. His mussed hair curled underneath his ears and at the tips of his neck, slightly dampened with sweat. His eyes were a bright, beaming blue despite the ever growing bags under them. Keith felt a surge of affection and want curl pleasantly in his chest. It was stronger than previous aches, so strong that he knew it was far beyond what he could feasibly mask as platonic. 

Maybe he didn’t need to anymore.

“No, actually. I think I got it right this time.”

 

~

 

Lance wound up falling asleep after all. They had been lounging quietly, exchanging randomly interspersed conversations that peaked then died down naturally, and Keith had turned to ask about some topic that vanished from his mind as soon as he spotted Lance snoring softly and curling up on the corner of the couch. Keith swallowed at the sight and scooted off the couch. He was glad Lance had found a way to fall asleep considering his recent sleeping troubles. It felt almost intrusive staying there while he slept, though. 

Keith made his way to Shiro’s room and knocked. Even if Keith didn’t, Shiro would know what to do—hopefully. 

“Come in.” The door slid open, and Shiro looked a little surprised at Keith’s arrival; maybe he had been waiting for or expecting an update about the upcoming mission. “Keith, is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” Keith said and stepped in. He lingered near the door; an easy escape. “Do you have a minute?”

“Of course. Did you want to talk about time travel?” Shiro put down the tablet he was reading from. “Or about the upcoming mission?”

“Neither, actually. It’s about what we talked about before,” Keith said. Shiro looked lost. “About, um. _Lance._ ”

“Oh,” Shiro said. “Oh! Yeah, come sit down.”

Keith sat down on the edge of the blanket and grabbed the sheets with his fists; they were a good lifeline—something to grasp onto so he could focus on the sensation instead of the confusing mess that his brain had become in the past hour and a half. 

Shiro chuckled. “It might help if you relax a little.”

Keith loosened his shoulders slightly and sighed. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Shiro said. “So, what about Lance did you want to talk about?”

“I think I like him,” Keith confessed. It felt too real saying it out loud, and he felt his heart rate triple. “No I—I like him. A lot.” He looked up at Shiro with a helpless expression. “Shiro, what do I do?”

“So you like him,” Shiro said with a smile. “Do you want to date him?”

Keith gulped. “I didn’t think about that. Uh. I mean, that sounds n—nice. Maybe. Yeah. _Yeah._ ”

“It’s not going to be easy dating while fighting a war,” Shiro said. “But if you two think you can make it work, I support you both.”

“Shiro, it’s not that simple,” Keith said softly. He took a breath. “I do appreciate the support, really. But even ignoring the war, I don’t know if he likes me back. I mean, I don’t even know if he’s into guys like _that_. He’s always flirting with girls, and he likes Allura _so_ much.”

Shiro thought over the words for a moment. “I haven’t really seen it all that much lately. In fact, I can’t remember the last time he flirted with a girl.”

Keith’s heart thumped with hope he was afraid to indulge. It was so small, but could be so catastrophic if improperly unleashed, if fostered by false speculations. “Maybe he’s trying to show Allura he’s serious about her, by not flirting with other girls.”

“He might be,” Shiro said. “But I don’t think that’s what it is. And the only one who knows for sure is Lance. If you want an answer, you’ll have to ask him.” 

A nervous laugh escaped Keith. “Ask him? I can’t do that! He’ll know something’s up. What if he catches on?”

“You’re going to have to put yourself out there,” Shiro said. “Or you’ll never know if he likes you back.” 

Keith swallowed and looked down at the floor. “I guess. I just don’t want to mess up the team dynamic. What if we can’t form Voltron?”

“I don’t think either of you would let it come between forming Voltron; you two are both far too stubborn,” Shiro said. 

“Or, his and mine,” Keith added. “I like being his friend; I don’t want to go back to being ‘rivals’. I’ve had enough of that in both timelines.”

“I know,” Shiro said gently. “It’s always a risk. You just have to decide if it’s worth it.”

“It is,” Keith said in a small voice. “He’s worth it.”

“Then you have your answer,” Shiro said. He rested a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Were you thinking of telling him before or after our mission?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead,” Keith admitted, but then again, he rarely did. “Do you think I should wait?”

“It’s up to you,” Shiro said as he dropped his hand to the bed. “It might be worth saying something beforehand, just so that it’s not distracting you during the mission. But it could help to have more time to decide on a plan of action.”

Keith closed his eyes. “Maybe if I mess it up I’ll get sent back in time again and spared the embarrassment.”

Shiro laughed. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Do I just ask him on a date? How are we supposed to have dates while in space? And at war? Am I supposed to flat out tell him I like him?”

“I think you’re overthinking it, Keith,” Shiro said. “Just go with your gut—you’re good at that. Do what feels right, even if it might be unconventional. Just remember to be mindful of Lance’s feelings, too.” 

“Thanks,” Keith said. He stood up slowly; his legs felt shaky from the conversation. “And Shiro I…I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you better.”

Shiro frowned. “Keith, where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know what the future holds anymore,” Keith said. His assumption had been that his newfound ignorance would lessen the burden on his shoulders, but it had done little in that regard. If anything, the stress piled on. He no longer had control. “Not now that we’ve changed so much. But I knew better early on, and I should have done more to keep you safe.”

Shiro sighed and patted the sheets. Keith sat down again and watched him closely. “Flying to Kerberos was my dream—ever since I was a kid. There was nothing that could have stopped me from going on that mission, short of maybe knowing the outcome myself. And even then maybe not. It did help give us information that we could use against the Galra.”

“But I already saw the information!” Keith said. “You didn’t have to go through it…especially not this time.” 

“You’ve already done all that you can,” Shiro said. “None of us blame you for any of this, and you shouldn’t, either.”

Keith let out a long sigh. “Yeah, okay.”

Shiro glanced at the clock. “So, are you going to go tell him? Or wait?”

“I don’t know,” Keith said. He stared at his hands as though the answer would be written down for him. He saw only lines and old scars. He released a breath and caught Shiro’s gaze. “I’m just going to go with my gut.”

Shiro smiled. “Good luck.”

Keith nodded and slipped out of the room. He debated just heading to his room since Lance was still asleep, but he also figured Lance would initiate a search party as soon as he woke up alone, so Keith made his way back to the lounge. 

Lance lifted his head and blinked drowsily at Keith’s entrance. He stretched and yawned. “I fall asleep?”

“Uh, yeah,” Keith said. He suddenly didn’t know how to react around Lance. Would Lance know? Just by looking at Keith’s face? Shiro had—even before Keith himself had. Keith _thought_ his poker face was pretty good, but he had never asked anyone. Or played poker. “You were sleeping pretty deeply, so I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Aww,” Lance cooed. “What a gentleman.” 

“Since you’re awake you could head to your room,” Keith said. It wasn’t that he wanted to find an excuse to get rid of Lance, but if he was tired it only made sense to take advantage of his potentially brief ability to fall asleep. “If you’re still tired.”

“Nah, that involves movement,” Lance said and yawned again. “I’ll think I’ll just stay here. Are you tired? You should come sleep with me.”

Keith’s heart leapt as though electrocuted. “W—What!” 

Lance blinked. He jolted upwards on the couch. “Not like that! Oh my God, no! I didn’t mean—no!” His voice jumped in pitch and his face flushed redder than Keith had ever seen it. “I meant a nap!” 

Keith’s heart rate slowly came back down to a non-life-threatening level. “I…”

Lance covered his face with his hands. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah, a nap sounds good,” Keith said. His throat felt scratchy. Would it be a weird time to confess now?

Lance shifted his fingers to reveal one eye. “Really?”

Keith shrugged, going for nonchalance—but probably just looking like he was having some sort of a stroke. “I’m tired, and we’ve got a big mission tomorrow.”

“Right,” Lance said and dropped his hands. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes. His leg jiggled relentlessly. “Uh, come on over, I guess.”

Keith shuffled over and sat down on the left side of the couch; Lance spilled into it a bit, but mainly was lying on the right half. There was more than enough room for the two of them, so Keith wasn’t sure if he was supposed to scoot over farther so that there was absolutely no chance of them invading each other’s space, or conserve space—for anyone else who would potentially happen upon them—by inching closer. 

Lance looked wide awake as he leaned against the back of the couch. Keith mimicked the position on his own side and closed his eyes to avoid the risk of accidental eye contact. He’d confess later, when Lance was more awake and his mind was less clouded.

“Hey, Keith?”

Keith inwardly sighed and opened his eyes. He captured Lance’s gaze, which was unusually hesitant. “Yeah?”

“Do you really think my plans are good?” Lance asked.

Keith blinked, caught off guard. “Of course I do. You…You’re the—the planner. You’re good at that. At thinking ahead.”

“Thanks,” Lance said. A small smile upturned his lips. “Um. I’m going to go back to sleep now.”

“Right,” Keith said. “Goodnight?”

Lance laughed softly. Keith felt it in his chest. “Goodnight, Mullet.”

 

~

 

Someone was shaking his shoulder. 

“Come on, Keith.”

Eyes blurry, Keith sat up and instinctively reached for his knife. He held it up in front of him in defense as he came back to consciousness.

“Eep!” Keith blinked his vision into focus. Lance stood above him, hands in a ‘don’t-shoot’—or in this case, ‘don’t-stab’—gesture. The room was dim. “Why would you sleep with a knife underneath your head!” 

“Protection,” Keith said. He tried to will his legs awake. 

“The only protection you’re going to get is being saved from murder by the enemy because your knife’s already killed you!” Lance insisted. “You’re just outsourcing your murder!” 

“I think you’re overreacting,” Keith said as he sheathed his knife.

“I think you’re _under-reacting,_ ” Lance countered. 

Keith rubbed his eyes; he still felt drowsy, his mind clouded. “What time is it?”

“Middle of the night,” Lance said. “The others didn’t wake us up. I figured you might want to get some sleep in an actual bed.”

“Right, thanks,” Keith said. 

Lance offered his hand for leverage. Keith grabbed it and pulled himself up off the couch and toward Lance. His momentum was too much, and he wound up only inches away from Lance, their hands still clasped together with added tension. He heard—almost felt—the hitch of Lance’s breath; he was close enough to kiss him. Keith really wanted to kiss him, and he was tired of waiting. 

So he kissed Lance. 

Keith had never kissed anyone, so he didn’t exactly have any measures to compare to in terms of technique or style. He was pretty sure the other person was supposed to kiss back, though, which Lance…wasn’t. Dread filled his lungs and he pulled back quickly, embarrassed.

“Okay,” Keith said, fully intending to sprint away as soon as an apology left his mouth. Who just _kissed_ someone? “I _definitely_ read things wrong—”

“You just kissed me,” Lance said hoarsely. His eyes were glazed over. 

“Uh, yeah,” Keith said. Maybe he should have planned this more; Shiro hadn’t prepared him for a rejection, nor had his gut. It lurched with a flurry of unease and ripples of distress. 

“On purpose?”

“On pur—what do you mean was it on purpose! Of course it was!” Keith tried to pull away from Lance, a newfound scowl capitalizing his face. “How many people do you go around kissing on accident!”

Lance tightened his grip. His gaze darted to Keith’s with eyes that were serious, ardent, far too invested for the kiss to have meant nothing. Keith inhaled sharply. “Zero. That was my first kiss.”

“With a guy?” Keith tried. Would he be angry that Keith had just taken it? Keith had never put much weight into his first kiss, but he imagined Lance certainly would have—if he even liked guys, for that matter. If not, well, Keith had read the situation even more wrong. 

“With anyone,” Lance admitted quietly. 

“What? No—No that can’t be right,” Keith said with a growing frown. With how much Lance flirted, it seemed near impossible.

Lance gave a weak smile. “It’s right, but I appreciate your confidence in my love life.”

Keith swallowed. “I shouldn’t have taken it. I’m sorry.”

Lance let go of Keith’s hand and cupped his face. “Don’t be.”

He leaned forward and kissed Keith hesitantly. Keith shut his eyes and pressed back with perhaps a little too much force. Lance’s lips moved against his own, shifting in an almost worried, frantic pattern. His lips were so soft and smooth. Suddenly overwhelmed by the tight squeeze of his chest, Keith pulled back and hid his face in Lance’s shoulder, breathing heavily. 

Lance let out a shaky laugh. He moved one hand to rest it lightly on the middle of Keith’s back and let the other tangle in his hair. His hands trembled. “I’ve…wanted to do that for a while.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Keith murmured. His words were muffled by fabric, but Lance seemed to gather the sentiment. He clenched his fist into Keith’s shirt. 

“Scared,” Lance said. “Kinda still am.”

Keith snorted and pulled back. “You? Scared?”

Lance scowled. “Coming from the guy who pulled a knife on me not even five minutes ago!” 

Keith laughed. 

Lance tugged him close and wrapped his arms around Keith tightly. “God, I love your laugh. You should do it more often.”

Keith flushed immediately. “Y—You can’t just say things like that!”

“Oh, but I can and I will. You’re going to have to get used to it,” Lance said with a tsk. He rested his chin on top of Keith’s head, straining his spine in order to do so. After a pause, he froze. “I…I mean. If you want to.”

“I do,” Keith said. “Um, a lot.”

“Okay, cool,” Lance said. He kissed Keith’s head and lowered himself back on the soles of his feet. He smiled softly. “I want it a lot, too. I like you so much, Keith.”

Keith ducked his head. “Same.”

“Same! Come ooooon, Keith,” Lance said. “I thought we _bonded._ ”

“I swear to GOD, Lance,” Keith said. He could feel the heat from his cheeks; he only hoped Lance couldn’t. He bit his lip. “Fine. I really like you, too.”

Lance beamed. “Wow. I mean, I know we just kissed twice and all, but. This still doesn’t feel real.”

“We could kiss again?” Keith said carefully.

Lance hummed. “Third time’s the charm; I think you’re on to something.”

Keith lifted his head and stilled. Lance watched him with soft eyes, a kind smile. Keith returned the smile briefly before he leaned in and kissed Lance again. Lance tilted his head for a better angle, drawing a hand up to brush Keith’s bangs out of his eyes. Their technique was getting better it seemed, especially now that both knew to kiss back. Keith was aware of the fact that he was probably pressing back a little too ardently, but he just wanted to get close, close, _closer,_ and Lance didn’t seem to mind, anyway. On the contrary, Keith could feel the smile Lance was trying to stifle in favor of continuing the kiss. Eventually, though, Lance drew back, pressed a chaste peck to Keith’s lips, and stepped backwards. 

“I really want to keep kissing you,” Lance said. “But we should probably try to get some more sleep.”

“Tomorrow’s going to be long,” Keith said. And at this rate, he was going to need another hour—at least—just to calm his heart down. His chest heaved with intensity, its sharp pressure similar to the sensation that surged through his body following a strenuous training sessions. It came in waves, though, whenever Lance kissed him; a dizzying rush that hid away just long enough for him to balance himself before it swept him up again and destroyed his already weak footing. 

Lance bit his lip and looked away. “Um, maybe we could fall asleep together again?”

Keith’s breath stuttered. “Yeah.”

Lance flashed a small smile and offered his hand, which Keith quickly took. His own hand was shaking a bit, but from what he could tell, Lance’s was, too. Lance led them directly to his room and tugged them in. Keith marveled over the fact that he had only been in the room once or twice before, never long enough to fully soak in the atmosphere or aura that was so utterly Lance. His room was decorated, in no particular pattern or order, with various artifacts he had discovered on the vast array of planets the Paladins had visited during their time in space. He seemed to be particularly drawn to items on the smaller size, and ones in a pale shade of blue or purple. Overall, Keith was somewhat surprised by the excess of empty space, not dissimilar to his own room, but then again, they weren’t on Earth; Lance’s room at home was probably notably contrastive. 

“I like to do my face mask thing,” Lance explained at Keith’s silence, perhaps mistaking it for confusion or pique. Since their kiss, he had been acting more jittery than normal, something which Keith could not only relate to, but also could find comfort in knowing that he wasn’t the only one experiencing a minor panic whenever they touched or caught each other’s gaze. Lance let go of Keith’s hand to gesture aimlessly in conjunction with his commentary. “And I don’t have any of my supplies in your room. Or pajamas. Oh, quiznak. I didn’t think about your pajamas.”

Keith shrugged. “I sleep in my clothes, anyway.” 

Lance scrutinized him. “You’re not joking.”

“Why would I joke about that?” Keith frowned. 

Lance sighed. “I should have known. You sleep with your knife.” 

“For protection!” 

Lance eyed the knife warily. “If I die, I’m coming back as a ghost and haunting you for the rest of your life.”

Keith rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “I’ll put it under my side’s pillow, okay?”

“Fine,” Lance said with a pronounced sniff. “I’m going to go change into pajamas like a normal, knife-less person.”

Keith waved him off as he placed his knife under the pillow closest to the door. He tended to wake up earlier than Lance, and he didn’t want to have to climb over a sleeping body. It still felt surreal, even being in Lance’s room—in his _bed_ of all places. Clothes were one thing, but shoes were another, so he kicked his boots off and wriggled out of his socks and left them all near the foot of the bed. He swallowed and lay down stiffly, unsure of how much space he was allowed. 

Lance bounded onto the bed and flopped down next to him. 

Keith grunted at the force and looked over at him. He frowned. “Where’s your face mask thing?”

Lance was in his familiar blue pajamas, but his face mask was nowhere to be seen. “I’m going to put it on in a minute. But I can’t kiss you with it on, soooo.”

Keith’s heart leapt. “Oh.”

“Yeah, so come over here already, Mullet,” Lance said. “I’m risking getting wrinkles for you!” 

Keith scoffed and rolled over, hovering over Lance who suddenly looked very pleased—and slightly nervous—at the new positioning. Keith leaned down in a push up position and pressed his lips firm against Lance’s. Lance pushed himself up slightly, sliding his arms so he could use his thumb to stroke the hairs at the nape of Keith’s neck. Resting his weight on his knees, which enshrouded Lance’s thighs on both sides, Keith bunched his fingers up in Lance’s pajama shirt. They kissed lazily for a few minutes, bodies shifting every now and then when a position grew uncomfortable. Keith pulled back and studied Lance; his face held a tiny flush and his lips were redder than normal. A giddy sensation coiled within Keith at the idea that _he_ was the cause.

“You seem to like my hair an awful lot for someone with so many complaints about it,” Keith said.

“Maybe,” Lance said and gave it a light tug. His blush seemed nearly painted on by this point. “Guess it’s grown on me. Don’t think this means I’m going to stop calling you Mullet, though.”

Keith smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Now hurry up and put on your face mask so we can sleep.”

“Pushy, pushy,” Lance chided as he shoved Keith off him. Keith landed with an ‘oomph’ on his stomach, but he was grinning. It felt like he couldn’t stop grinning, in fact. His cheeks were beginning to feel strained, but his mouth had a mind of its own. 

While Lance fiddled with his face mask, Keith climbed under the covers and shuffled until he found a comfortable position. He was half asleep by the time Lance returned. 

“Scoot on over,” Lance whispered, poking his cheek.

“Mmm?” Keith blinked his eyes open. “But my knife’s under this pillow.”

Lance let out a long sigh and made a grand show of climbing over Keith. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Keith was _just_ sleepy enough to let that one slide. “Mmm.”

Lance laughed quietly. “You’re really out of it, huh?”

“Lance, sleep,” Keith said in a groan. “How are you so awake?”

Lance’s hand snaked around beneath the covers until he found Keith’s and gave it a tight, meaningful squeeze. He spoke quietly: “I’m worried that when I wake up this won’t be real.”

Keith’s expression softened. He looked over to Lance, who had a face covered in that ridiculous goop—but who somehow never looked more kissable. His eye mask was bunched up in his hair and headphones lay closely next to him, ready for use. 

“I’ll be here,” he said and leaned over, kissing Lance gently. “Promise.”

Lance smiled back, a smile which grew in size as he looked at Keith’s mouth. “You’ve got some face mask on you.”

Keith groaned and rested an arm over his eyes. “Whatever. I’m too tired to care at this point.” 

Lance shrugged and slid on his eye mask. “It’ll make your pores look great, anyway.”

“ _Goodnight,_ Lance,” Keith said. 

“Goodnight, Keith,” Lance said, amusement coloring his tone. 

Keith heard him slide on his headphones before he reached a hand out, groping blindly until it found Keith’s. Lance quickly took hold and entwined their fingers, releasing a slow, contented sigh. 

Keith smiled. 

 

~

 

It was dark when Keith awoke. His stomach dropped and his breath hitched. Oh no— _oh no._

The sheets felt off—too warm and stuffy. He didn’t recognize the room, not even after the seconds ticked on. There were sounds of shuffling nearby that his attention immediately latched onto, clung to. Footsteps came toward him. “Keith?” 

“Lance?” His voice sounded breathless. It was distant and small as though he was watching the scene from another room with so much to say but no chance to say it. 

Lance stepped closer and climbed back into bed. His face was barely visible in the darkness, but Keith saw that he wore a sheepish expression. “Sorry if I woke you; I had to pee.”

Keith clenched his hands and fought back the urge to search for his knife. He trusted Lance. “What time is it?”

“Like 3 AM?” Lance’s hands paused on his headphones. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Keith took a deep breath. “I just didn’t know where I was for a minute.”

Lance was quiet for a moment before he turned on his side and scoffed. He reached out and enveloped Keith in a hug. “You’re right here in my arms of course, silly.”

Keith felt a smile stretch onto his face. “Right. Don’t know how I forgot.”

“Must be that Mullet of yours,” Lance said with a yawn. “Taking up all that valuable real estate in your head.”

“If you’re going to insult me, I’m not going to share any of space with you,” Keith said. “Even though you desperately need it.”

Lance snorted. “Thanks, babe. You really know how to make a guy feel special.”

Keith’s heart fluttered as soon as his brain registered the pet name. He bit his lip to hide his grin and rested his head against Lance’s chest. The adrenaline coursing through his veins hadn’t quite caught on to the situation, but it was refocused instead on his proximity to Lance, a safer, more desirable alternative. “Maybe I’ll share a little.”

“Good enough,” Lance mumbled. He sounded like he was already almost asleep. He rolled onto his back and took Keith with him. The blankets bunched up a bit and Keith smoothed them out before lying back down, his head nestled where Lance’s heart was. He tentatively draped his arm across Lance, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, a smooth, steady lull that made his lingering nerves dissipate. He closed his eyes and fell back asleep.

When he woke up again, it wasn’t to an alarm, but to Allura’s voice announcing that preparation for the mission began in half a varga. He sat up and looked to his right. Lance was still asleep, an arm thrown half-haphazardly across his pillow. 

Keith nudged him. “Lance, wake up.”

“Hmm?” Lance stiffened before his body unconsciously relaxed. He sat up and lifted his eye mask, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “Aww, morning already?”

“We only have half a varga to get ready,” Keith said, already hopping out of bed. He collected his knife and paused. “You weren’t wearing your headphones?”

Lance blinked and looked down at the sheets where his headphones lay untouched. His face pinkened. “Uh. You were here, so I didn’t need them.”

Keith’s cheeks flushed to match Lance’s. “Oh.”

Lance cleared his throat. “Anyhow! Right; getting ready for the mission. Um. You can go ahead to breakfast if you don’t want to wait around.”

Keith shrugged. “It’s whatever.”

Lance offered a tiny, but markedly pleased, smile. 

“I want to at least brush my teeth,” Keith admitted. “I think we forgot to last night.”

“Uhh, maybe you did!” Lance sounded distressed. “Oh my God, and I _kissed_ you.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I’ll meet you outside your door?”

Lance offered a thumbs up. “Make sure you brush your tongue, you heathen.” 

Keith was always quick to get ready, so it wasn’t surprising that he stood outside Lance’s door for a good two and a half minutes afterwards. He could faintly hear humming behind the door, some song he didn’t recognize—not that he recognized many. It was nice to have in the background, though, an invisible reminder of whose room he was in front of. 

Lance popped out of his door and flashed a grin. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, squaring his shoulders. “Hey, it’s been forever, man!”

Keith huffed a laugh. “How are you so cheerful in the morning?”

“‘Cause you’re here with me,” Lance half sang. He pursed his lips and made kissing noises. 

Keith punched his shoulder gently. “Shut up!” 

Lance’s eyes brightened, as though he had been trying to provoke that exact response. “Make me.”

“Oh my God, you cliché,” Keith said. His heart still raced at the thought of kissing Lance, but he found that he kind of enjoyed it. He glanced around the hallway before leaning in and pressing his lips against Lance’s. Lance rested a hand on his hip and tugged him close. Every sense was heightened and every touch felt magnified to the extreme. Keith cupped half of Lance’s neck, feeling the sharp jut of his collarbone and the heat that hid just beneath the collar of his shirt. After a bit they broke apart, their breaths slightly more audible in the quiet of the hall. 

“See?” Lance said softly. “Now you’re smiling, too.”

Keith rubbed his lips with his fingers, as though he could scrub the smile away. “Whatever. Let’s get breakfast before Allura sends out another announcement.” 

They fell into step. 

“It’d be nice if we could have _one_ morning with something other than food goo,” Lance said wistfully. “Even if it was just coffee!”

Keith gave a faint nod of assent and grabbed Lance’s hand. 

“Uh!”

Keith glanced over. “What?”

Lance looked flushed. “N—Nothing. You’re just holding my hand?”

Keith frowned. “Isn’t…Aren’t you supposed to?”

Lance rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I just. Didn’t expect it.” He smiled softly and squeezed. “It’s nice, though.”

Keith returned the smile.

“Say,” Lance said and cleared his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbled nervously. 

“Say?”

“Uhm, what is this?” Lance appeared to catch Keith’s confused expression and hurried on. “I mean, I really, _really_ want to be your boyfriend. But, I know we’re at war and all. And in space. And you told me you never thought about dating—”

“Lance,” Keith interrupted. Lance closed his mouth. “I wasn’t lying when I said I hadn’t thought about it.” Lance seemed to deflate at the words. “But, things change. And maybe normally I’d be more hesitant to date while at war, probably even against the idea, but that was before. Before all this I thought time was a constant, but now I don’t even know. But I do know that I don’t want to go through losing my friendship with everyone again. I…I don’t want to miss out on what could be between us. I don’t know if you and I could have been anything in the other timeline, but here…here we’re—we’re something, and I like that, a lot. After everything we’ve gone through, I don’t know if we could _not_ be something. I don’t know if there’s a time limit on me being here like there was before, but I want this, for as long as I can have it. Today’s mission guarantees nothing about survival, but I’m taking the risk anyway. Why not do the same for us?”

Lance sniffled. He shielded his face against his shoulder and rubbed vigorously at it. “Before you ask, ‘m not crying! There’s just some space dust in my eye…”

Keith raised an eyebrow and hovered his free hand close to Lance’s chest. “You know that it’s okay to cry, right?”

Lance dropped Keith’s hand and engulfed him in a tight hug, ignoring the last comment. “I want all this, too. Even if you have known me twice as long and knew all the dirty secrets of how to get me to like you.”

Keith pulled back, somewhat offended at the accusation. He had made a pointed effort to present himself as unbiased. “I didn’t have any secrets!”

“I’m kidding,” Lance stressed. Keith reluctantly pressed back into the hug and Lance stroked his hair in response. “It…must have been tough having to go from being so close to everyone to being practically strangers.”

“It was,” Keith said quietly. He was initially surprised by the level of introspection, but then again, Lance had always been good at reading people. He latched onto Lance’s sleeves, curling his fingers possessively into them. Sometimes he still feared being sent back again. Once was nowhere near a trend, but far greater a chance than he had ever envisioned being possible. And there was no pattern to it that he could identify, no trigger or reason, which only furthered the state of ambiguity he was residing in. “It was difficult not acting the same.”

“You know,” Lance mused. “I did notice you were acting differently on the day of the Kerberos launch.”

Keith’s eyebrows furrowed. “You did? I was?”

“Yeah,” Lance said. “That was the first time you ever responded to my jabs. For a while there I was starting to think you were deaf.”

Keith laughed. “Because that’s the _only_ reason someone wouldn’t respond to you.”

“Of course,” Lance said lightly. “I was kind of pleased, even though it turned into a shouting match. Then you had to go and run off that night. I was so mad at you.”

“I didn’t want to,” Keith said. “But there was no way I was going to get any information while at the Garrison.” 

“Dude, chill,” Lance said. “I’m not blaming you. Even though you totally drove your hover bike with the intention of making me sick.”

Keith’s lips curled up. “Maybe a little.”

“I knew it!” Lance punched his shoulder softly. “You jerk!”

“You were being annoying on purpose!” Keith protested, smile wide. 

Lance shrugged. “Probably. _I_ still think it was just a ruse to get me to hold onto you.”

“Your ego knows no bounds,” Keith said dryly. “You know we’re probably late to breakfast, right?”

“Oh, now you _don’t_ want me to hold you?” Lance gave a pointed squeeze. He pressed a kiss to Keith’s forehead—it mainly caught his bangs more than his actual skin—and released him, but quickly picked his hand back up. “For the record…I am glad you took me out that night.”

Keith smiled. “I am, too.”

“So,” Lance prompted. “Boyfriends?”

“Boyfriends.”

Pidge was the first to notice after the door opened for them. Her eyes darted to their hands and she raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s a new development.” 

“Aww, this is awesome!” Hunk said. He wiped a tear from his eye and clasped his hands together. “Lance, you finally confessed! I’m so proud of you.” 

Lance flushed and rubbed his neck. “Aww, jeez, Hunk.”

“I’m happy for you two,” Allura said. A fond smile sat upon her face. “But do remember that this cannot distract either of you from the mission at hand.”

“They’ll be fine,” Shiro said. He was smiling, too. He gave Keith a pat on the back as he passed. “Glad to see you two together.”

“Thanks, Shiro,” Keith murmured. 

“You two eat up,” Allura said. “We cannot risk anyone being low on energy today. You can convene with the rest of us when finished; we’ll be preparing in the control room.”

Lance saluted her lazily. “Got it, Princess.”

Keith sat down and picked up his spoon. 

“Heeeey, Keith,” Lance drawled.

Keith looked up. “What?”

“They left us all alone,” Lance said, tone giddy. “Kinda like our first date, huh?”

“You really want our first date to be eating food goo the morning before a mission to take out Zarkon?” 

Lance pouted and ruminated over the notion for a minute while Keith shoveled down what his stomach could manage. “Well, maybe not _official_ first date. Hey! You started without me!” 

“We’re going to be here all day if I wait for you,” Keith pointed out. He pushed Lance’s bowl against his chest and raised an eyebrow. “Hurry up, Sharpshooter.”

Lance gave a cocky grin and curled an arm around the bowl. “If you insist, Samurai.”


	9. Chapter 9

Five minutes later, Keith and Lance made their way into the control room where the others had been waiting. Allura perked up at their entrance and gestured for them to come join the others. Everyone stood in a semi-circle facing her, as though she was preparing to recite a bedtime tale rather than the instructions to eliminate a multi-millennium old empire. Lance slipped his hand into Keith’s, the smooth movement almost automatic despite its novelty. 

“I spoke with Kolivan earlier,” Allura said. “Thace has double checked the code and confirmed that its integrity has not been compromised. I trust you all remember the plan. We won’t have too long during Thace’s distraction to target the Ro-Beast before Zarkon catches on and sends out more cannon fodder, so we will want to eliminate the Beast as quickly as possible. Coran and I will provide fire from a distance and potential support in the case that Thace is found out and requires rescue. Remember to focus Voltron’s attention on Zarkon’s fleets as soon as the Ro-Beast goes down. We will need every force we can get. I have contacted the Olkari and Balmerans, and they have been kind enough to provide us with supplies, reinforcements, and medical aid.” 

“So, what happens after we destroy the Ro-Beast and the fleets?” Hunk asked. “Do we just, get on board Zarkon’s ship?”

“If possible, we would like to lure him off his ship and into empty space,” Allura said. “We want to isolate him from his soldiers and weaponry, and we receive an advantage fighting as Voltron rather than as five separate Lions. Coran and I will do our best to keep any Galra backup away from the main fight once the Ro-Beast is down.”

“This is really it, huh?” Lance murmured. “The final battle.”

His hand was warm and soft against Keith’s own. It was grounding, keeping Keith’s mind steady and determined even while they encroached in on uncharted territory. In all of his years of living, Keith had never been a part of something so universally important. Voltron was an enigma, an alien experience that he was struck between admiring its strength and resenting its obligation of him. But above all else, he needed to take down Zarkon. He needed to end the Galra empire and give Lance the opportunity to return to his family. Where Keith would go, he wasn’t sure, but that mattered less. He had no one to come back to. 

“The boss fight,” Pidge added. 

“That may seem like the case,” Shiro said. He rubbed his right arm absentmindedly. Keith felt a pinch of guilt; would the war ever truly be over? After centuries of destruction and death? They had been fighting for so long that sometimes it felt like it was all Keith knew, all he’d ever know again. “But there’s still an entire empire in place beyond just Zarkon. Defeating him is a huge breakthrough in saving the universe, but there’s no telling who or what will take over his position. We need to be on our toes for what’s to come, even if we do manage to take him down.”

“Shiro is correct,” Allura said. “Especially with the knowledge that Zarkon bore a son, Lotor, who has been exiled but remains powerful, hidden, and of age. No one is currently aware of his location, but he very well may come out of hiding at the chance to follow in his father’s footsteps. We must be wary, but do remember that any step, no matter how small, is a victory for peace and for all who have since fought against the Galra empire. You should all be proud of yourselves for standing here, ready to fight.” 

Right. Lotor. Voltron had only just established the first fragments of actual communication with him when Keith was sent back. Maybe if they were lucky they’d be able to lure him into the fight, but at the same time it risked having another opponent if Lotor decided cooperation wasn’t his style.

“And we’re _sure_ Zarkon’s not expecting us, right?” Pidge said. “We’re not just walking blindly into a trap?”

“To my knowledge, yes,” Allura said. “There is no doubt in my mind that no one on this ship is a spy, and Keith’s memories and endorsement of the Blade of Marmora have led me to trust that their organization is true to its word. Zarkon’s link to the Black Lion has been severed, so there should be no chance of him gathering intel on our whereabouts or plans. As well, the Olkari and Balmerans are no longer under Zarkon’s rule and have pledged their loyalty to us.”

“It just feels too safe,” Pidge admitted. “But I guess that’s a good thing.”

“I know what you mean,” Keith said, because that feeling was almost a perpetual part of him by now. Bit by bit, his skepticism would chip away at any detail, no matter how minute. Its intensity had only increased tenfold after being sent back in time. Safety was comforting, but also had a tendency to be misleading. It was dangerous to be too lenient, could mean the difference between life or death in the face of war. “But for once I actually can’t see where this plan fails, other than just not being able to defeat Zarkon.”

“We’ll be cautious, of course,” Shiro said. “We need to have faith in our abilities, though. We have a solid plan, undercover assistance, allies on support, and the element of surprise all in our favor.” 

“And Voltron,” Lance said. “Which is like, the greatest weapon in the universe or whatever, right?”

“Right,” Shiro said. 

“If it’s so great, I don’t understand why it even needs to be piloted in the first place,” Hunk said. The others glanced at him. “What! All I’m saying is, can’t the Lions fly themselves? Are they like, bound to be subservient? Oh my God, have we enslaved them?”

“Hunk, I think you’re overthinking it,” Pidge said. “Like, a lot.”

“Now wait a minute, he’s got a point there,” Lance mused, tapping a finger to his chin. “Blue steered the controls for me when we first found her. Did she just imprint on me? Like a kitten?”

“Wow,” Hunk said grimly. “Is free will an illusion?”

“Guys, we’re about to go up against the ruler of an intergalactic empire,” Keith said. “I think this conversation can wait.”

“Maybe,” Hunk said. “Or _maybe_ you’re just saying that because you have no free will of your own.”

Lance looked over, a serious expression adorning his face, strengthening his already sharp features. “Babe, I need you to be completely honest with me. Can you exercise free will, or are you Ella Enchanted?”

“Ella—who?” Keith threw up a hand. Who was Ella? Why were they even having this conversation? Why were Shiro and Allura just letting this happen? “And of course I have free will! Here’s me freely willing my hand out of yours.”

Keith tugged his hand out of Lance’s grip. Lance sputtered and reached out for it. 

“Okay, I believe you,” Lance said quickly. “Keith Enchanted doesn’t have a good ring to it anyway.”

“This is ridiculous,” Keith said, but curled his fingers back around Lance’s, where they belonged. 

“Princess,” Coran said, interrupting the discussion simply through his entrance. Keith mentally thanked him for it. “Kolivan has sent us the signal and location; it’s time to go.”

“Excellent,” Allura said and pressed her hands down on her station. She looked collected, fierce, ready to steer them all toward victory. The mice crowded around her feet, looking up at her with awe. “I’ll guide us toward the coordinates now. Paladins, get to your Lions!” 

Keith was glad Lance was a fast runner, because he seemed intent on keeping their hands glued together until the last possible second, even as they ran toward the hangars. It was nice, though; they felt like a team, like partners. Meters before Keith was prepared to turn and head down the hallway toward Red, Lance tugged on his hand and slowed their run to a walk. Keith sent him a confused look.

“Hey,” Lance said softly. He picked up Keith’s other hand. They stood, facing each other. Keith’s heart began to race. He didn’t know how Lance could always have such an effect on him, even just from looking at him. He wondered how he had gone so long without noticing it. It was almost like a switch; enter Lance and cue heart thumps. “I know we don’t have very long, but. Take care of yourself out there, okay? Come back to me. And kick their asses, man.” 

Keith smiled. He pressed a hasty kiss to Lance’s cheek. “You too. Try to leave some shots for the rest of us. I’ll be in Red’s hangar afterwards.” 

“I’ll be there,” Lance promised. He gave Keith’s hands one last squeeze and stepped back. “Let’s go save the universe.” 

 

~

 

“We’re approaching the ship’s location,” Allura said. “I’ll keep the Castle at this distance to obscure Coran and myself from view. Remember to exit the hangars as soon as Thace detonates the bomb. We cannot spare any time.”

Keith gripped his controls and took a breath. This could be it; this could be the end. 

“Now, Paladins!”

Keith flew Red out of the Castle hangar, tracing a small circle and watching as a portion of the Galra ship exploded. Debris flew toward them. 

“There’s the Ro-Beast!” Pidge called out once the smoke cleared. The reanimated creature shot out from the nearly destructed side of the ship. “It looks like they’ve changed it…but I can’t tell how.”

“Guess we’ll have to find out,” Lance said. 

“Keep an eye out for anything new,” Shiro said. “Now, let’s form Voltron!” 

“It’s moving all weird,” Hunk said. “I don’t like that.”

“Last time we fought it, we were on a planet with, you know, proper gravity,” Pidge pointed out. “It probably handles differently out here in empty space.”

“Should we lure it to a planet then?” Lance said. “Make it easier to target?” 

“No,” Shiro said. “We can’t leave Allura and Coran to deal with the fallout of Zarkon without Voltron. We’ll fight it here. It’ll be fine.”

“It looks like it’s charging up for something,” Keith said. Different sections of the Ro-Beast were beginning to light up ominously. “We should shoot first.”

“Good idea,” Shiro said. “Hunk! Can you ready the cannon?”

“On it,” Hunk said. The others could hear the plunge of his bayard into Yellow. The shoulder cannon assembled and charged up a shot, firing quickly. The Ro-Beast flung up the side of its arm, producing a thick shield made from crystals. 

“Oh, great,” Lance said. “It’s got a _shield_ now.”

“Okay, new plan,” Shiro said. “Maybe we can slice that shield off of it. Keith?”

“Already ahead of you,” Keith said, his bayard clicking as it fell into place. Voltron formed its sword and shot off toward the Ro-Beast. 

“We’ll feign right and go left,” Shiro said. “We want to get it from the side.”

Voltron started for the right before darting toward the left, swinging its sword and slicing right through the section where shield met Ro-Beast. 

“Nice job, everyone!” Shiro said. “Now let’s look for a weak spot.”

“According to every robot movie I’ve seen—which is a lot, by the way,” Lance said. “His weak spot is definitely where his heart should be.”

“I find myself doubting the accuracy of that claim,” Keith said. “But I also don’t have a better idea.”

“Aww jeez, babe, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Lance said, tone amused. 

“I agreed to it, didn’t I?” Keith teased back. 

“Guys,” Hunk said. “Flirt later?”

Keith flushed and pursed his lips. He hadn’t realized their banter had been flirtatious. Maybe that explained why it had taken him so long to understand his feelings. 

He cleared his throat: “Let’s just go for the heart. Sword seemed to work.”

With a shout, Keith thrust his controllers forward and Voltron stabbed the Ro-Beast straight through the heart. It short-circuited briefly before Voltron was slammed into and pushed away. The Ro-Beast straightened itself quickly,its wires forming over the wound and patching the chest up.

“That’s…not good,” Pidge murmured. “It has some sort of self-regenerating ability.”

“Yeah, Pidge, we got eyes,” Lance said. 

“Focus,” Shiro said. “We need to work together. Let’s plan out an attack.”

“I don’t know if we really have time for that,” Hunk said. Fighter jets were beginning to spill out from the damaged side of the ship, sniping in shots when possible. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

“We have your backs, Paladins,” Allura announced, moving into sight with the Castle ship. It began firing at the smaller enemy ships, clearing a pathway. Voltron dodged a few pieces of precariously floating carnage. “The Olkari and Balmerans will be here shortly for backup. Maintain focus on the Ro-Beast, if possible.”

“Will do, Princess,” Shiro said. 

“What if we just slice its limbs straight off?” Pidge said. “It can mend wounds, sure, but potentially only over an area that’s still technically together. Like, if we just chop off an arm from its shoulder it might be stagnant.” 

“It’s worth a shot,” Keith said. 

Voltron lunged forward and sliced one of the Ro-Beast’s legs at its upper thigh. The chunk separated from the body entirely, leaving a large gap. The exposed wires sparked, but nothing healed.

“Nice!” Lance said. “Let’s stick with this.”

“Aim for its other leg next,” Shiro instructed. The Ro-Beast pushed forward and began charging up again. It was quicker this time, and managed to release two well-aimed bursts of energy. Voltron darted to the side, the beam ghosting over its right side. Shiro grunted as Voltron was pushed back from the force. “Okay, let’s not allow it the chance for another shot.”

“Agreed,” Hunk said. “It’s nice that Voltron is fast and all, but its speed does not do wonders for my stomach.”

“Maybe we should target one of its arms,” Pidge suggested. “It looks like that’s where the majority of its weaponry is.”

“Nice point, Pidge,” Shiro said. “Left arm; its missing leg will make it easier to crowd in on the left side.” 

They cycled back toward the left side, slicing toward the creature’s shoulder. The Ro-Beast grabbed Voltron’s waist with its right arm and flung it away. Voltron tumbled backwards, flipping upside down briefly before Shiro was able to rein in their balance. Keith grunted and gripped the controls, narrowing his eyes. 

“This thing is strong,” Hunk said. “Even without its weapons.”

“Can we shoot its arm off from a distance?” Lance said. “We could stay out of its reach, then.”

“Let’s find out,” Shiro said. Keith withdrew his bayard as he heard Hunk slamming his in. 

The cannon popped back up on Voltron’s shoulder. They dodged a second attack from the Ro-Beast as the cannon heated up. Feigned right. Then left. A shot burst from the cannon, splintering the Ro-Beast’s left arm from its body. 

“Now we’re talking!” Lance said. “Halfway there.”

“Let’s keep up the good work, team,” Shiro said. “Right arm.”

“Gotcha,” Hunk said. 

Another shot. Another break. One limb left. 

Keith bit down on his lower lip, a little too fiercely. He could feel the metallic taste of blood begin to roll down his chin. Something felt wrong. He wasn’t sure what, if it was just an uneasy sensation swelling in his abdomen simply from the fact that they were fighting, or if it was something more sinister. More deadly. 

“How are you and Coran doing, Allura?” Keith asked. They had been quiet. 

“Fine.” Her voice was sharp. “We have it under control.” 

Keith grimaced. If she said so. 

“Look out!” Hunk shouted. 

The Ro-Beast surged forward, its head breaking off from its abdomen and remaining leg. Its head continued floating forward while its limbs floated in spot, seemingly dead. 

“Uh, in no universe should that be happening,” Lance said. 

“What’s it doing?” Keith murmured. 

“Its head is a bomb!” Pidge yelled. “It—It must be one of the added features.”

“Are you sure, Pidge?” Shiro asked. 

“I can’t think of any other reason it would come flying toward us with only its head when it has other weapons. Speaking of, we need to get out of the way!” 

They jerked to the left as the Ro-Beast flew by, nearing the Green Lion and almost clipping her in its pursuit. 

“So what now?” Hunk asked, terror leaking into his voice. “We can’t let it hit anything!” 

“We can try to maneuver it into exploding in empty space,” Pidge suggested quickly. “One way or another, we’re going to need it out of here, and fast.”

“It’s heading for our allies,” Shiro said, terse. “We have to shoot it out _now._ ”

The head of the Ro-Beast was making a direct path for where the Castle ship and the other allied planes were located and focused on battling Zarkon’s fighter jets. With all the chaos and fire, it was becoming increasingly tough to discern who was an ally and who was an enemy. The head swerved in between the fighting and made a sharp turn toward where a cluster of Olkari ships were crowded, and flew dangerously close. 

“Shiro?” Lance asked quietly. None of them wanted to fire and put the Olkari or Balmerans in danger. 

Shiro hesitated. The head flashed a worrying red. “…Shoot now.”

Before Voltron’s shoulder cannon could fire, the Ro-Beast’s head crashed into one of the allied ships, beginning a nauseating domino effect that decimated half of the Olkari planes and a few Balmeran stragglers. Space was silent as the destroyed ships floated aimlessly, some no more than a wing or tail. 

“Oh no,” Pidge said, voice so small and young.

Keith swallowed, his throat tightening in fear. A cold sweat collected on his temples. Faintly, in the distance, he could make out the mutilated bodies of almost survivors, listless and gone. 

No one said anything. All of a sudden, it felt like Keith had forgotten the entirety of language. 

“Paladins, are you all right!” Allura called. 

“We’re…” Shiro cleared his throat. “We’re okay, Princess. The Ro-Beast is. Gone.” 

Allura’s voice was gentle: “I see.”

“It’s time to face Zarkon and finish this,” Shiro continued. “Ready team?” 

“You know it,” Lance said sharply and Pidge made a noise of assent. 

“Locked and loaded,” Hunk said, whatever that meant. 

There was silence, and Keith realized they were waiting for his response. There wasn’t time to mourn for the allies, to learn the names of those who had sacrificed their lives for them. He straightened himself in his seat and leaned forward: “Yes, sir.” 

“Then let’s go.” 

 

~

 

There was no Zarkon. The ship, while still half functional, made no signs of releasing him.

“Uh, maybe the dude’s taking a bathroom break?” Hunk suggested. 

“I think he probably could have done that at literally any other time in the past ten thousand years,” Lance said. “Something’s up.” 

“I agree,” Pidge said. “This feels wrong.” 

“Princess?” Shiro asked. “Should we investigate?” 

“I…I believe so, yes,” Allura said eventually, though her tone was cagey. “But please be careful. It may be a trap.” 

“Should we separate?” Hunk asked. “I feel like flying in as Voltron isn’t very inconspicuous.” 

“Good idea,” Shiro said. “Everyone head back to the Castle. We’ll use the Green and Red Lions to move forward.” 

It was quiet while Pidge and Keith piloted their Lions toward the ship. Lance was fidgeting next to Keith, jiggling his leg. Shiro stood with his arms crossed. 

“Should I stay back?” Pidge asked when they were close. “It seems like a bad idea to just leave a Lion laying around in an enemy ship.” 

“That’s probably our best option,” Shiro said. “Keith, is that okay with you?”

“That’s fine, Shiro,” Keith said. “Pidge and I can watch each other’s backs.”

Shiro nodded as the Lions landed. Shiro and Lance left Red while Hunk stepped out of Green and the three headed off. 

Almost as soon as the others were out of sight, Pidge’s face popped up on Keith’s screen. “Am I the only one who’s a little nervous about this?”

“Definitely not,” Keith said, letting out a breath. “I mean, we might have just flown two Lions straight into a trap.” 

“I’m going to go crazy if I just sit here waiting for the others to get back,” Pidge admitted. She sighed and rummaged around her control panel. “I’m going to hack into the security system and look for information. Maybe there’s something about Matt.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for guards,” Keith said. Pidge gave a thumbs up and her face disappeared. Immediately, Thace’s face emerged. “ _Thace_?” How was he projecting to Red? Was he on their comm link?

“Hello, Red Paladin,” Thace said. His words were fast, but quiet. “I have recently come into some information that may be of interest. There are growing rumors among the ship that Zarkon has been killed.”

“What!” 

“They say his son, Prince Lotor, is responsible,” Thace continued. He looked behind himself. “I have little time before I must leave. I do not know how accurate these claims are, but I have not seen Zarkon in person or via telecommunication for the past few quintants. Do what you will with this information.”

“Thank you,” Keith said softly. Thace nodded swiftly and vanished. Keith pressed his communication button. “Guys? Thace just passed on some—”

“Some what?” Shiro said. 

Keith froze. From his cockpit, he saw Lotor standing before the Red Lion. “—information. And it looks like I have a guest.”

“Oh God, is Zarkon there?” Hunk asked. “Scream if you need help!” 

“No, it’s…Prince Lotor,” Keith said. “He’s waiting outside Red.”

“Don’t let him in!” Lance warned. 

“I’m going to let him in,” Keith said. Lance let out a loud huff. “I’ll take him back to the Castle where Allura and Coran can keep an eye on him.” 

“Keith, I don’t know about this,” Shiro said. 

“It’s fine,” Keith said. “Red won’t let anything happen to me.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” Keith said. “From what Thace has said, though, it sounds like Zarkon isn’t here, or anywhere. They’re saying he was killed.”

“Wait, already? By who?”

“Lotor,” Keith said. “Look, you guys might want to head back. He might have some knowledge about what’s going on.”

“We’ll be back in five,” Shiro said. “Pidge, you okay flying the three of us back?”

“That’s no problem,” Pidge said. “I’ll be here.” 

Keith pressed a few buttons and Red lowered his head down to the ground and opened his mouth. Lotor’s mouth quirked up as he stepped in. 

“Hello, Red Paladin.”

“Lotor,” Keith said. 

“I appreciate your willingness to chat,” Lotor said. 

“That’s one way of putting it,” Keith said tersely. He started up Red and flew off. “I’m taking you back to the Castle. Don’t even think about starting anything; Red doesn’t give second chances.” 

“I assure you that my motives are entirely altruistic,” Lotor said. 

“Sure.” Keith turned his comms on again. “Allura? I’m bringing Lotor in now. We’ll be in Red’s hangar.” 

Lotor was silent until they neared the Castle. “I see you’ve done wonders with your second chance.”

Keith tensed. Those were not the words of someone who Keith had yet to be introduced to, nor were they comforting in any sense. He lowered Red into the hangar and turned to Lotor. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Lotor smiled. “You can’t possibly think that your time travel was random, can you?”

A shiver reverberated through Keith’s spine. “ _What_?” 

“Did you not do your homework?” Lotor tsk’d. “Time travel requires the existence of wormholes, which have to come from somewhere.” 

“So you…?”

“Sent you back? Precisely,” Lotor said.

“But…why?” Keith whispered. 

“Do you remember your last moments there?”

Keith swallowed. He remembered, but it was foggy, distant. It no longer felt like he had actually lived through any of it, had only observed its broadcast far, far away. “It was…just before the explosion. You hit and broke the shield. Voltron was escaping Naxzela.” 

Lotor nodded. “Yes, the timeline was quite bad at that point. After I penetrated the shield, I produced a wormhole for us both to escape through.”

“Why _me_?”

“Do you think that poorly of yourself?” Lotor said. “You are half-Galra, are you not?”

“Yes,” Keith said, bristling. There was something about Lotor’s tone that he was less than fond of. He removed his helmet and stepped out of Red, Lotor on his tail. 

“Then you have an important nexus to the empire and the Blades of Marmora. Not to mention the positioning at the time. You were in an individual ship, as was I. There was hardly a chance I was going to send all of Voltron to the past.”

“But why not?” Keith said. “It would make more sense if all of us remembered.” It certainly would have made his life easier. 

“I cannot simply remove Voltron from existence, now can I? It would leave the universe absolutely no chance to defeat my father’s empire,” Lotor said. 

“Wait, remove from existence?” Keith frowned. A sinking feeling grew in his chest, a warning of defeat. “No, that. That doesn’t make any sense. It’s _time travel._ Not an alternate reality. Slav explained it already.” 

“Yes, time travel,” Lotor said. “But did you not think that there might also be an alternate reality to this world? One, which, is more reliant than ever on Voltron without either of us?” 

The hangar door wizzed open before Keith could respond. Lance was the first one to move, storming over to stand in between Keith and Lotor. 

Lance scowled and crossed his arms. “Keith, is this guy bothering you?”

“A hello to you, too, Blue Paladin,” Lotor said dryly. 

“It’s fine, Lance,” Keith said and rested a hand on his shoulder. Lance relaxed immediately. “He…he knows about the time travel.”

Lance turned to Keith, surprised. “You told him?” 

“No, he’s the one who sent me back,” Keith said.

“Sent you _back_? How? Why?”

Lotor sighed. “If you’re going to just ask questions that I’ve already answered—”

“Lotor,” Keith said sternly. “Hold it for a minute.” He looked to Lance. “Do you remember the mind meld that we all did? He sent us both back in a wormhole right after the shield’s destruction.”

“Wait a minute,” Pidge interrupted. She took a step forward, as did the others. “So you’re behind all of this? And you’re from the future, too?”

“Technically,” Lotor said. He caught Allura’s gaze. “I suppose this is best talked about with everyone present.” 

“You’re darn right it is!” Lance said. “Trying to get Keith all alone…”

“Lance, seriously,” Keith said. He wound his fingers into Lance’s and tugged. Lance sighed and squeezed back, stepping closer to him and away from Lotor.

“So you’re claiming that you sent yourself and Keith to the past,” Shiro said. 

“Yes,” Lotor said. “Zarkon and Haggar’s control had gone far beyond what could be managed. Perhaps it was not the most conventional approach, but I had faith in my abilities to change the past. And the Red Paladin had proven himself to be a worthy opponent in previous battles, not to mention the added benefit of him being aware of his half-Galra side. With him already heading toward my direction, it only made sense to bring another mind on the side of peace. While I could change events on my end, he too had the potential to alter matters within Voltron. Having additional knowledge in both groups was too valuable an asset to pass up.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Allura said stiffly. “But are we truly to believe that you had the chance to travel backwards and did not alter anything that offered yourself more power? That only strengthened the Galra empire and complicated Voltron’s efforts?” 

Lotor stared back at her blankly. “I hope you may trust my word, Princess Allura. I would not have traveled backwards was I not insistent on changing the future for the better.”

“Your word means nothing to me,” Allura said and Lance followed up with a harsh ‘ _Yeah_!’ “We have hardly existed on united sides, and I find it difficult to fathom that it is only now that you make your presence and knowledge known. It is rather convenient timing, is it not?” 

“Yeah, I don’t know about this,” Hunk said. “How do we know you’re not just saying all this so that we let you go free?” 

“He knows about the fight on Naxzela,” Keith protested. “That hasn’t happened here.” 

“How much does he know?” Shiro asked. “What did he say?”

Keith hesitated. “He—He asked what my last memory was of.”

Allura watched him warily. “So he did not actually give any information about Naxzela, only prompted you?”

Keith sucked in a breath. What was he doing, offering such sensitive information so quickly? There was just a pull in his chest, a yearning to know more about his circumstances and how everything had gone down. “I, I guess not. He knew that I had traveled backwards, though. And about the Blades.” 

“Hmm,” Allura said. “I suppose that’s something, but we cannot discount the possibility of a spy amongst the empire feeding him information, either.” 

“I don’t trust him,” Lance said. “One bit.”

“We should at least figure out what he knows,” Pidge said. “From either time. We all know what happened here, and Keith knows what happened _there_ , so we’ll know if he’s lying.” 

Lotor nodded. “I accept your terms, Green Paladin.” 

“Wait,” Keith interrupted. Everyone looked to him. “I just…what did you mean earlier about Voltron disappearing?” 

“Ahh, yes,” Lotor said. “When I sent the both of us back, we were removed from existence in that universe entirely. While we are now in the past of that universe, which is now this reality, the alternate reality of the once future remains. Success there was unlikely, but would have been impossible had I removed Voltron as well.”

Keith paled. “Wait, you—you mean I don’t _exist_ in that future anymore?”

“Provided that there is an alternate reality to our universe, no. You would have entered this timeline which has now shifted, splitting the two timelines from each other. You have since existed in the past of both this and the other reality, but now only in the future of this one. To the others, it will look as though we have both perished in the explosion.”

Keith’s vision almost whited out from his anger. “So you just _took_ me from my universe? My team is still _out_ there?”

“There is a chance,” Lotor said calmly. “But with how circumstances were faring, it is quite possible they no longer are alive, either.”

Keith didn’t realize he was shaking until Lance was there with two hands on his shoulders to steady him. 

“Keith.”

Keith inhaled sharply. Lance. Was his Lance okay? Was this his Lance? Had either of them ever been his Lance? He’d flown straight for the shield to protect his team, and who knew if they had even made it through the day? Had they searched for his body? 

“Keith!” Lance squeezed Keith’s shoulders. He sounded scared. “Breathe!” 

Keith took in a long breath, lungs heaving and throat almost choking from the sudden influx of air. Words weren’t coming out. Lance wrapped his arms around Keith and held him in a tight hug. 

“Perhaps it would be best to continue discussion later,” Allura said at last.  The words sounded distant—in another world, another time. Keith’s mind was crumbling.  “You may remain on our ship, Lotor, so long as you are willing to remain under surveillance.” 

“If you believe it to be necessary,” Lotor said. 

“I do,” Allura said. “You may follow me.” 

“Keith,” Shiro said and set a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I…”

“Should we give him some space?” Hunk asked. “He looks like he might vomit.” 

Keith reached out and clutched Lance’s jacket, digging his trembling fingers into the fabric. He needed something concrete to hold onto, to assure his existence. “ _No!_ ”

“Okay!” Hunk said. “Err, can we group hug then?” 

Keith gave a stiff nod, and suddenly three more pairs of arms were around him. He closed his eyes, rested his head against Lance’s chest, and tried to stabilize his breathing. 

 

~

 

By the time Allura returned, the others had stepped back from Keith and were conversing quietly about the mechanics of time travel. Lance still clung to Keith, arms wrapped purposefully around his waist and head rested on his shoulder. 

“He is isolated, at the moment,” Allura said. “Coran is watching over him as a precautionary move.” 

“Normally I’d say this was a poorly thought out excuse,” Pidge said. “But we _do_ have another time traveler with us.” 

“Yeah, but that’s Keith,” Lance said. “And he’s… _Lotor._ ”

“You are right to be wary,” Allura said. “His one request was that we allow his crew on board.”

Hunk grimaced. “Yeah, okay, I’m with Lance. Not happening. First we let his crew on, then all of a sudden he’s stealing one of our ships to escape. It's Nyma and Rolo all over again.” 

“That’s a pretty big ask from a prisoner,” Keith said. He was still reeling from everything. A small part of him did its best to remind him that there was no reason for them to take Lotor’s words at face value, not yet. Did he want Lotor to be telling the truth? He wasn't even sure.

“He will have no company until he proves his story to be accurate,” Allura promised. 

“Do we know if he actually killed Zarkon?” Hunk asked. 

Allura hesitated. “He said he did, but we do not know the motive for certain. It’s questionable whether or not his actions were out of a desire for peace, or merely a way for him to overtake his father’s throne. He is the only one who knows for sure, but I am not prepared to trust him as of yet.” 

“So is it time to go interrogate him or something?” Lance asked, unconsciously holding Keith tighter. 

Allura looked to Keith.

“I’m fine, Allura,” Keith said. He wanted answers more than he wanted comfort. “Let’s go talk to the guy.”

Allura nodded and led them toward Lotor, who gave a strained smile at their arrival. “Quite a shame you are allowed the presence of your friends, Princess, but I am not.”

Allura rolled her eyes. “Yes, poor you. If you are so insistent on company, then I suggest you explain yourself quickly and honestly.”

“I promise we are all working toward the same goal here,” Lotor said. “What is it that you wish to know?”

“How can we trust that you’re really from the future?” Shiro ventured. 

Lotor thought for a moment. “I suppose you may ask me about events that have not taken place here.”

He looked to Keith, who tensed. Lance curled his fingers around Keith’s bicep. 

“Fine,” Keith said. “Where was our first interaction?” 

“Puiga,” Lotor answered immediately. “I believe you were flying the Black Lion at that point.” 

Keith nodded. He felt almost annoyed that Lotor had been correct. “He’s right.”

“Ask him another,” Lance said askance. 

“What did you send one of your generals to collect?”

Lotor paused. “Well, that is incredibly vague.”

“Just answer the question,” Lance said. 

“It was prior to us meeting,” Keith said. “If that helps at all.”

“Hmm. I suppose I did send Acxa to collect scaultrite from a Weblum,” Lotor said. 

“That’s it,” Keith said. Her name was Acxa, huh?

“So he’s from the future,” Pidge said. “I still don’t know if I trust him.” 

“Agreed,” Hunk said. 

“We don’t have to agree with everything he says,” Shiro said. “But it sounds like he does have a lot of information we could use.” 

Allura pursed her lips. “Why did you not contact us sooner?” 

“Too many variables had been changed,” Lotor said. “The Black Lion could not be tracked, and Voltron never came across Puiga. I was making a point to keep my own location confidential. My presence is not exactly welcomed by the empire.”

“Sounds like we finally have something in common with them,” Lance muttered. Keith sent him a dry look, but didn’t say anything. Lance wasn’t _wrong_ , per se. 

“What changes have you made?” Shiro asked. 

“Other than taking down the leader of the Galra empire?” Lotor sniffed. “I have siphoned a considerable amount of Quintessence from my father’s reserve, and prevented Haggar from infiltrating my group through one of my generals.” 

“I see,” Allura said. “And what have you done with this excess Quintessence?” 

“You may find it on my ship,” Lotor said calmly. 

“And your ship is where?” Hunk said. 

“It is currently in the hands of my generals,” Lotor said. “They brought me to Zarkon’s ship. I requested they not follow. They are likely either still near the ship or have flown back to our base.”

Shiro turned to Allura. “What do you think, Princess?” 

Allura sighed. “I want confirmation of the Quintessence. Lotor, are you willing to contact your crew?”

“Of course,” Lotor said. “I’ll only need my comm to do so.”

“I will hold onto it in the meantime,” Allura said. “But you may input the coordinates.” 

She held out the comm to Lotor, who set the device. A face quickly projected into the air.

The masked figure stared. “Prince Lotor.” 

“Acxa,” Lotor greeted. “You may show your face.” 

After a moment, Acxa lowered her helmet. She looked vaguely familiar; Keith remembered fighting her once. “Is this a hostage negotiation.” 

“No, not at all,” Lotor said. His voice was light, as though he wasn’t currently sitting handcuffed in the Castle. “Will you please show my colleagues our stockpile of Quintessence?” 

“Yes, sir,” Acxa said. She took the comm with her and headed for the main control room’s exit. “Zethrid, take over the controls.” 

“Yeah, whatever.”

Acxa stopped at a door and opened it. Inside, at least three dozen Quintessence containers were stored, all glowing bright purple.

“I believe this evidence is sufficient?” Lotor said. 

Allura made an unconfirmed noise. “And what do you plan on using this Quintessence for?” 

“My priority was removing it from my father’s possession,” Lotor said. “It was one of the only ways of weakening him.”

“Now that Zarkon is supposedly dead, what _other_ purpose do you have?” Allura asked. 

Lotor stared at her. “It’s a power source, is it not? It can fuel the war efforts and save lives.” 

“I notice you did not specify which side it would fuel,” Allura said lowly.

“I believe my intentions have been clear,” Lotor said. “Even considering the extenuating circumstances of time travel.” 

Allura looked to Shiro for guidance. 

“I’m with you, Princess,” Shiro said. “If you have faith in him, the rest of Voltron will stand by you.” 

“Thank you,” Allura said. Straightening her shoulders, she turned to face everyone. “We will allow Lotor to remain in the Castle for the indefinite future, under strict watch.” She glanced at Lotor. “I suggest you request your crew’s presence before I change my mind.”

Lotor nodded. “Thank you, Princess. Acxa, please divert course to the location I will send you momentarily. Do not inform anyone of your plans.”

“Understood, sir,” Acxa said and disappeared. 

“Allura, are you sure this is a good idea?” Keith asked. He hardly trusted Lotor, even considering the whole time travel circumstances. And having Lotor’s whole crew on board sounded like trouble waiting to happen. 

Allura wore a conflicted expression. “Better than the alternative, perhaps.”

Keith frowned and looked at the floor. “I guess.” 

“We can reconvene once the others arrive,” Allura said. “We’ll have to change plans now that we have new information.” 

“Sooo,” Hunk said. “Does this mean we’re taking a break? Because I’m feeling a little peckish.” 

“I suppose so,” Allura said. “Please just return to the control room in half a varga.”

“Got it,” Hunk said and headed off. 

“Keith,” Lance said and grabbed his arm. 

“What is it, Lance?”

Lance bit his lip and shot a look to the others. “C’mon, scooch. I wanna kiss you without the others looking.” 

Keith flushed and nodded briskly. They only just rounded the corner before Lance whisked Keith up into a tight hug. Surprised, Keith slowly returned it. “I thought you wanted a kiss?”

“I do,” Lance said softly. “I just wanted to hold you first.”

With a gulp, Keith tightened his grip. 

After hugging for a bit, Lance pulled back and studied Keith. “Are you okay?”

The words ‘ _Of course_ ’ were milliseconds away from tumbling from his mouth, but he paused, thought about it. Taking a breath, he shifted his gaze to the wall. “I…don’t know.” 

Lance was quiet for a moment. “It’s okay to not be okay.” 

“I know—just. Not now,” Keith said weakly. Not in front of Lotor. “I need to be okay now.”

Lance sighed, but drew him in for a kiss. It weakened him, loosening his muscles, but it also gave his mind strength.

“Thank you,” Keith said when Lance stepped back. “I…Are you okay?”

Lance put on a blank smile. “Of course!”

“ _Lance_ ,” Keith said. It had gone against everything in himself to admit that he wasn’t sure, and it hurt a little knowing Lance wasn’t willing to do the same. “You just said it was okay to not be okay.”

“I know,” Lance said. “Just not now.”

Keith faltered. “Lance, no, I didn’t, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Lance watched him carefully. “But you did.”

“For _me_ ,” Keith stressed. He pushed his bangs up with a hand. His heart was working overtime, an innate response to Lotor’s previous words and the fear of a potential fight with Lance. Why couldn’t he just _explain_ himself better? “I can’t—I can’t think about it and let Lotor get to me. I just, need to…finish the day. To get through the meeting with his generals. I can’t do a heart-to-heart in our half an hour of down time, okay? I just _can’t._ ”

Lance’s expression softened. “Okay. I understand, Keith, really.”

Keith took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” Lance said, and there was a real smile on his face now. A small one, but a real one. “Thanks for elaborating.” 

Keith sighed and took a step forward. He rested his head against Lance’s shoulder. “Thanks for asking, even if now isn’t a good time for me.” 

Lance wrapped his arms around Keith and hummed. “You mean a lot to me, you know?” 

“Lance! Heart-to-heart later!” Keith said. 

“Okay, okay,” Lance said and pressed a kiss to the top of Keith’s head. “Just let me know when, okay?”

“Promise,” Keith said and closed his eyes.  With everything that was happening and had the potential of happening, he just wanted to remain in Lance’s arms, protected and cared for. Maybe one day he'd have the luxury of that forever. 

For now, though, just the minute was enough.


	10. Chapter 10

Lotor’s generals did not look happy to be on the Castle ship. Similarly, none of Voltron wanted them there, either. It felt weird having so many other Galra on board, almost reminiscent of the Blades of Marmora. Keith hoped Thace had made it to safety. Thace had made it this far, further than he was supposed to. But with every successful change came barreling uncertainty, a thousand other possible paths suddenly emerging, bracketed with tall, thick walls blocking access, with coveted endings so distant no tangible evidence of their existence prevailed beyond a hopeful doubt. A naive longing. 

“So what’s this meeting for?” One of the generals asked. She was the tallest, and looked the angriest. “I thought we were going to finally get to punch something.” 

“Later, Zethrid,” Lotor said. “I trust you will all welcome our guests?” 

The generals, save for the one with a cat, all turned to each other, silent. 

“Not talking, huh?” Hunk said. “Well, we have ways of making you talk.” 

“We’re supposed to be working _with_ them,” Shiro reminded. 

“I really just wanted to be able to say that line,” Hunk said. “It’s been a dream of mine, really.” 

“The hunter becomes the hunted!” Lance added. Keith sent him a perplexed look. “If he gets to say his favorite line, so do I.” 

“Let’s all take a minute to calm down and focus,” Shiro said. “Allura?”

“Right,” Allura said and cleared her throat. “I am extending an offer for the five… _six_ of you to stay on the Castle, provided that you all behave.” The mice were perched on Allura’s shoulders, watching the cat with wary, distrustful eyes. Keith could relate. “I do not want any private meetings or planning without a member of Voltron present. Remember that I may rescind this offer at any point. Do not work toward that.” 

“Jeez,” Zethrid said. 

“Yeah,” another general said. She was bright pink. “Talk about snobby.” 

Allura’s face flushed with an embarrassed anger. 

“Zethrid, Ezor,” Lotor snapped. He looked embarrassed himself, the aftermath of a failing mediator of sorts between the two groups, groups that were similar only through their mutual disdain for teamwork. “That is no way to speak to a Princess. I am so sorry, Princess Allura.” 

“It’s fine,” Allura said stiffly. “But I will not tolerate this behavior moving forward.”

“Sorry,” Zethrid offered.

“Yeah, sorry,” the other—Ezor—said. “I guess your hair is pretty nice.” 

Allura let out a weary breath. “Right. If we may return to the matter at hand. If Zarkon is truly gone, then we must prepare for what will come out of the empire next.”

“A ruler will be chosen,” Lotor said. “The process is called Kral Zera. Each candidate must fight to carry the torch up the summit on the Planet Feyiv. Whoever lights the flame becomes the next Emperor.”

“Okay, easy,” Hunk said. “We get Allura to kick everyone’s butts and take control of the throne.”

“The process is not so simple,” Lotor said. “The new ruler must be of Galra descent, and the more support from the empire, the less likely separate factions are to break off in defiance.” 

“Galra descent, huh,” Hunk said. “Then we get Keith to do it.”

Keith blanched. “Hunk, I’m _not_ vying for the title of Emperor.” 

“But it would make sense!” Lance said eagerly. “I could be dating an _Emperor_ , Keith!” 

“There’s no way I’d get any support from the Galra, save for maybe the Blades,” Keith said. The thought of being in charge of that many people while simultaneously being a part of Voltron was harrowing. He had hardly wanted to be pilot of the Black Lion and in charge of _four_ people, let alone an entire race. Also, he was just Keith. Not the son of an Emperor or King. Just. _Keith_. “And they’re not about to come out of hiding to show that support. It’d be a death wish.” 

“I’m sure there must be other Galra out there who are sick of the fighting and death,” Pidge said. “Or who want a more peaceful Empire. Why shouldn’t we push for that?” 

“Indeed there are,” Lotor said. “Unfortunately, they are small in numbers and risk everything by outing themselves, as the Red Paladin said.” 

Lance narrowed his eyes. “So you want us to nominate you next, is that it?” 

“It…makes some sense,” Allura admitted. 

Lance turned to her. “Allura?” 

“We need someone who is known in the Empire and who holds power,” Allura said. “Lotor is the son of Zarkon, and he undoubtedly is knowledgeable about Galra customs and diplomacy.”

“Thank you, Princess,” Lotor said. 

“He also has ties to Voltron now,” Shiro said. “I can’t imagine him flying away in the Red Lion went unnoticed. And the Galra aren’t exactly friends of ours.” He paused and looked to Keith. “Most of them aren’t.” 

Keith returned a small half-smile, more for Shiro’s sake than anything else. 

“He also _killed_ Zarkon,” Pidge said. She looked conflicted by the notion. Keith knew they all wanted to trust Lotor, wanted to have everything fall smoothly into place and have good be good and bad be bad. It was never so easy, though, and that fact alone was enough to raise Keith’s skepticism. And perhaps it was better that way, to know that there was some leeway in morality, a chance to be good even after doing some bad. After watching Shiro go to Kerberos. After withholding information. Killing Galra soldiers. A guilty sadness clenched his heart, squeezed it with the strength of concrete.

Pidge continued: “I don’t think Zarkon’s supporters are going to be very pleased about that.” 

“If he even had any supporters,” Hunk said. “At least, ones not supporting him out of fear or hope of inheriting the Empire.” 

“The Galra people want stability,” Lotor said. “They want prosperity and direction, however that may be achieved. While it has been through genocide and war for some time, that no longer need be the case.” 

“So this is just a thing now?” Lance said. “We’re just letting Lotor take the throne?” 

“We’re letting him try,” Allura said. “As things are, there is no better option.”

“I still think Keith should do it,” Lance muttered.

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Of course _you_ do, Lance.” 

Lance crossed his arms and made a face at her. Keith leaned in slightly and bumped their hips together, a move so subtle it was all but invisible to the others. Lance relaxed a bit, but kept his arms across his chest. 

“Well, moving along,” Allura said. “When does the ceremony of Kral Zera take place?”

“News of Zarkon’s death has spread quickly amongst the Galra,” Lotor said. “The Empire will crumble without a leader. Kral Zera will likely be in a few quintants.”

“Maybe we just let the Empire crumble,” Lance said. “Nothing of value lost.”

“Honestly, I’m with Lance on that,” Hunk said. 

“It’ll just split into smaller groups,” Pidge pointed out. “Which will be more difficult to target. Some that might even be _worse_ than Zarkon. Controlling it from the inside is our best bet for containing the more dangerous Galra.” 

Lance sighed. “I hate when you’re right, Pidge.”

“So we’ll set course for Feyiv,” Shiro said. “Sounds like a plan.” 

Allura nodded. “Now: Lotor, I want all of your collected Quintessence off your ship and moved into the Castle’s storage. I would like to be able to keep an eye on it.”

“Of course,” Lotor said. 

“Shiro, please aid us,” Allura said. 

“And you, Acxa,” Lotor said. 

Shiro and Acxa shared a blank look and followed the other two. An awkward silence fell over the room. 

“That one’s kinda cute,” Ezor said loudly, staring straight at Lance. “Weird ears, though.” 

Lance flustered, his face ruddy as he tried to splutter out a response. When words thoroughly failed him, he changed his tactics and grabbed Keith’s hand, looking away. Keith felt a blush rising to his cheeks and worked to maintain a serious, professional look. It was one thing to hold hands in front of potential enemies—it established weaknesses, revealed emotions and feelings that could be used against him in excruciating ways—and another to wear a naked face, one that betrayed more than any action ever could. 

Ezor giggled. 

Zethrid sighed. “This is boring, all this waiting around.”

“There’s a training room,” Keith offered. She had been the one who wanted to punch something. Keith could sympathize with that, and the bots were programmed to take a beating. 

Zethrid’s expression lit up. “Now we’re talking!”

“Are we supposed to keep an eye on them?” Pidge asked. “Someone should go to the training room with her, just to be safe.” 

“Great, babysitting,” Lance said. 

“I’ll go to the training room,” Keith said. He may as well get some of his own frustrations out, and he wanted to see what he was up against. The generals had put up a solid fight in the other time, and who knew how they fought now that Lotor knew the future just as well. 

“What else is there to do around here?” Ezor asked. 

Pidge thought for a moment. She seemed hesitant to divulge too much information about the Castle ship. Eventually, she said, “There’s a pool. And the kitchen. There’s a bit of a library, too.” 

The cat hopped off the shoulder of the still unnamed general. A long, obnoxious meow burst from its mouth and it darted off in one direction. 

“Err, that’s toward the library,” Pidge said. “I guess I can go with you.” 

The general, still silent, walked off after the cat. Pidge shot her teammates an uneasy look as she followed. 

“And then there were five,” Hunk said. 

“I’m going where Keith’s going,” Lance declared. 

Keith bit back a smile. There was a warm, pleasant feeling in his stomach, one that seemed to trail alongside Lance’s presence. “The training room’s this way.”

“Guess it’s you and me,” Hunk said as he turned to Ezor. “Kitchen?”

Ezor shrugged. “Whatever.” 

 

~

 

The three walked toward the training room, completely silent the entire way. Keith and Lance’s conjoined hands swung together between them. 

“So,” Lance said as they reached the training room. He was always the one to first extend an olive branch, and Keith admired him for it. Lotor was the exception, of course, but Keith couldn’t blame him. “Do you fight with like, a sword or something?”

“Just my hands,” Zethrid said proudly. 

Lance paled a bit. “Yeah, you can train against Keith here.” 

“Actually,” Keith said. “I wanted to ask you about some techniques, Lance.” He turned to Zethrid. “We’ll be up in the control room if you need us. Just say ‘Start training sequence’ and ‘End training sequence’.” 

Lance frowned, but followed Keith upstairs. He shut the door behind him and looked at Keith curiously. “Did you want to talk to me privately? Because that was a really bad excuse, dude. Who’s gonna train in the control room?” 

“I did want to talk,” Keith admitted. 

“What’s up?” 

“I…” Keith frowned, words leaving him. He wanted to get them out, out before they festered deep within the fragile crevices of his heart. “I don’t know.” 

“Is this about what Lotor said?” Lance ventured. 

Keith nodded. His old team, maybe still out there, maybe still alive—maybe not. Even as a tentative alternate reality, it still stung. He just wanted everything to be okay. Which is why he couldn’t bring himself to believe Lotor, to abandon the notion that it was pure time travel and nothing more. 

They stood across from each other for a minute or two. Keith wished he knew what Lance was thinking, what the pinched, distant look on his face meant. 

“I’m sorry I’m not him,” Lance eventually said. 

Keith furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

Lance shrugged. He held his shoulders tight, his expression guarded. “It’s always been him, right? I just look like him.”

“Lance, you _are_ him,” Keith said. “You—do you know how many times you’ve said or done the same things? It’s because it’s still you, no matter the time. It’s always been _you._ ”

Lance was quiet for a moment. 

“Please don’t,” Keith said when he saw Lance open his mouth and immediately knew what was to follow. “Please don’t think I’d leave you for him, you. The other timeline was the first time I got to meet him—you. And we were friends. I think. I like to think. But here…here I got to know you in ways I didn’t think were ever possible. I don’t want to lose that.” 

Lance sighed and hugged himself. “Is it weird to be this jealous of yourself? It’s like, logically I know we’re the same person, but. I don’t know. He got you first. I just followed in his footsteps.” 

Keith shook his head. “Lance, no. Think of—think of when we were back at the Garrison. You said the day we found out about the Kerberos crash was the first day I ever responded to you, right?”

Lance gave a slow nod. 

“That was the first day I got sent back to. But you knew me before that. The me before that,” Keith said. He was struggling to articulate himself, and only hoped the flimsy parallel comforted Lance. “The one who you were starting to think was deaf. Where nothing happened between us until I came back. That me got you first, technically, but nothing happened. Nothing happened until we were both ready for it to. Like Slav said, it’s not an alternate timeline, just time travel.” 

“But Lotor…”

“Well, I don’t care what Lotor has to say,” Keith admitted. “I trust Slav a lot more when it comes to weird time stuff.” 

Lance relaxed slightly. “Yeah, same.” 

Keith took a step closer and rested a hand on one of Lance’s. Lance leaned into the touch. Keith pressed their foreheads together. “If it helps at all, it wasn’t until here that I realized I liked you.” 

“Heh,” Lance said. He kissed Keith. “Maybe a little. Honestly, all this time stuff is confusing me.”

“Ditto,” Keith said. “It’s like my brain is trying to make sense of it but can’t. All I know for sure is that you’re you, and I want to be with you. You’ll always be my first choice.”

Lance pinkened. “God, Keith.”

Keith shrugged, pressing closer to Lance. It was the truth, so why not say it? It was a lot more work to hold it all in. And the loving look on Lance’s face was a nice bonus. 

“Maybe we were always meant to be together,” Lance said quietly. “Here or there. Any you, and any me.” 

Keith smiled. It was cheesy, but he was learning that his heart seemed to be a fan of cheese. “I like that.” 

“I like _you_ ,” Lance said. He uncrossed his arms and drew them around Keith. It was a tad uncomfortable while they were both wearing hard armor, but worth it. “It feels right when you’re in my arms.” 

Keith swallowed, emotion overwhelming him. His movements to hug back were interrupted by a loud crashing sound. The two jumped apart and ran to the window. A decimated bot was in pieces on the floor, mangled beyond repair. 

Zethrid looked up to where they stood. “Oops.” 

Lance let out a huffing laugh. “Of course. C’mon, let’s get down there before she destroys the rest of them. If…I mean, is there more you wanted to talk about?”

Keith shook his head. “I think I just need some time to take it all in. Thanks for the heart-to-heart.”

Lance beamed. “Lance and Keith, heart-to-heart.” 

Keith laughed, feeling weightless again. He didn’t know how Lance did it. 

Lance wrapped an arm around Keith’s shoulders and guided him down the stairs. “Y’know, babe, it’s a little embarrassing that you’ve never managed to destroy a bot with how much you frequent the training room.” 

Keith shoved Lance. “I know my own strength. I make a point not to overdo it.” 

“Mmhmm, sure,” Lance drawled. 

“These are weak,” Zethrid said once they were back on the ground floor. “I want a real opponent. The fight starts now!” 

She pitched a fast punch toward Keith, who only narrowly ducked out of the way, dragging Lance along for the ride. Lance yelped and covered his face on instinct. 

“What are you doing!” Keith cried. He shoved Lance aside and stood between them. 

“Training!” Zethrid yelled. She shifted on her feet, bouncing. “I need a real challenge!” 

“Oh my God, she’s going to kill us,” Lance said faintly. 

Zethrid sent him a dry look. “I just want to practice.” 

Keith took a hesitant step forward. “Okay, okay but Lance is a ranged fighter. I’m the one who fights up close.” 

Lance poked his head out from behind Keith’s shoulder. “Hey! I could totally take her. Err, but I’ll let you have this one, buddy.” 

“Sure,” Keith said. He handed Lance his bayard. “Hold on to this. I don’t want to accidentally activate it.” 

“What about your knife?” Lance asked. 

“That stays on me,” Keith said. Always. Lance nodded and took a few steps back, out of the line of fire. Keith turned to face Zethrid. “Ready when you are.”

“I’m always ready,” Zethrid said and lunged forward. 

Keith nearly slipped on the floor as he evaded her body slam. He sprung back to his feet and curled one hand into a fist. He could see Zethrid’s eyes move toward it, so when he ran forward he ignored the punch and swung his foot out to trip her. It caught her off guard and she fell, but easily turned the falter into a somersault. She grinned wildly at Keith when she regained her balance. He only hoped it was out of excitement and not cruelty. 

“I like your style, kid,” Zethrid said. “You fight like a Galra.” 

Keith stiffened. “I’m sure Lotor’s told you about me.” 

“About you being Galra?” Zethrid shrugged. She went for a punch to his stomach, which caught the left corner of his ribs. He sucked in a pained breath. “Not like I’m going to care. We’ve got some good fighting techniques.” 

Keith said nothing as he aimed a punch at her face. She slid away from him like she had been born to do so. 

“You’ve still got a lot to learn,” Zethrid said and got him right in the nose. 

Keith stumbled, a hand going to cover the blood that was now gushing down his chin and onto his suit and the training room floor. A single shot rang out, clipping the side of Zethrid’s armor but doing no real damage. Keith turned to see Lance frowning and holding his bayard with a white knuckled grip. 

“Gotcha,” Lance said coolly. 

Zethrid scowled. “It was a fist fight!”

“Gotta learn to adapt,” Lance said with a shrug. “Never gonna know who’s lurking in the shadows.” 

“Fine,” Zethrid said. She cracked her knuckles. “I’m hungry.” 

Lance looked to Keith, who was trying to surreptitiously wipe the blood away. 

“Maybe let’s go to the infirmary first,” Lance suggested. 

“Good ibea,” Keith said, sniffling. He wound up sitting on a counter while Lance dabbed away the blood and studied the injury. Lance’s face was so close that Keith could feel the heat of his breath, the warmth that radiated off of him. Had they not already been together, Keith probably would have lost his composure at that point. Even now, he very nearly did. 

“Doesn’t look broken,” Lance said finally. He kissed Keith’s nose. 

Keith let out a strangled, confused noise. 

“You always kiss boo-boos,” Lance said firmly. “It makes them heal faster.”

“Humans are fascinating,” Zethrid noted. 

“It—it doesn’t actually,” Keith tried, but Zethrid seemed convinced. “Let’s just go to the kitchen.” 

Hunk and Ezor were concocting some dish by the counters. Smoke rose from the food. 

“Turn the heat down!” Hunk said. 

“But it should cook twice as fast at double heat,” Ezor insisted. 

“That’s so not how it works,” Hunk said. “Keith! What happened to your nose?” 

Keith looked for clarification from Lance, who tapped the left side of his own nose. Keith swiped the back of his hand against his nose, feeling the crust of dried blood. With a grimace, he did his best to rub it away. 

“Accident,” he said shortly. He didn’t want Hunk trying to defend him against Zethrid—which, while kind, would do no favors for their necessary alliance. 

A call interrupted Hunk’s response: “Paladins, please report to the control room immediately!” 

Hunk turned off the burner entirely and put the burnt dish off to the side. “I’ll apologize to Coran later. Let’s go see what Allura needs.”

 

~

 

When the five of them arrived in the control room, Kolivan and Ulaz were already on screen. 

Keith’s heart thumped dangerously; Thace wasn’t there. It could just be a coincidence, but there was no guarantee. 

“Princess Allura,” Kolivan greeted.

Allura gave a short dip of her head. “Kolivan.” 

“News of Zarkon’s death has been given to us through multiple trustworthy sources.” Kolivan’s gaze shifted to Lotor. “Do you know how accurate these claims are?” 

“They appear to be true,” Allura said. 

“And Prince Lotor…” Kolivan said, trailing off. 

Allura straightened her shoulders. “Killed Zarkon, yes. We are in the process of moving forward with a plan. I have been informed that Kral Zera will take place soon.” 

“Yes,” Kolivan said. “This will be the first obstacle to overcome in ending the war. Has your planning extended that far?” 

“We are having Lotor fight for the throne,” Allura said. 

Kolivan nodded after a moment. “I see. The Blades will offer our support in your decision.”

“Thank you,” Allura said, looking relieved. “And as always, Voltron offers its protection.” 

“We will be in touch, Princess,” Kolivan said. “Let us know when you have decided on a plan of action for Kral Zera.” 

“Wait,” Keith said. Everyone turned to him. “Allura, can I have a moment to speak with Kolivan?” 

Allura blinked, surprised. “Of course, Keith. We’ll give you your privacy.” 

Everyone began shuffling out of the room, save for Lance, who appeared conflicted. He eyed the door, and then Keith, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. 

“I’ll just be a minute, Lance,” Keith said. 

Lance nodded and left, albeit still reluctant. 

Keith turned to face the screen again. Time to be blunt; edging around the topic was only going to waste time and frustrate both parties. “After the bomb went off, Thace spoke to me through the Red Lion’s communication line. Did he make it out?” 

“Thace is alive,” Ulaz said and Keith let out a long breath of relief. Thank God. “His injuries are significant, but non-fatal. He is currently resting in the infirmary.” 

“That’s good to hear,” Keith said. 

“Was there anything else you needed, Red Paladin?” Kolivan asked. 

“Actually,” Keith said. “I’d like to become a member of the Blades of Marmora. To shadow some missions.” 

“I see,” Kolivan said. “How committed are you to the mission? Our organization has survived only due to our secrecy and tenacity. We expect no less from each member.”

“I’m committed,” Keith said. “I’m prepared to leave Voltron to train.”

“And your absence would not hinder Voltron’s efforts?” 

“No,” Keith said. “They’ll be fine without me.” 

“And the Blue Paladin,” Kolivan began.

Keith’s stomach tensed. “What about him?” He asked, clipped. 

“He won’t be a distraction?” 

“No,” Keith said softly. Always. He always was. “He won’t be.” 

Kolivan nodded. “Our next mission will likely be during Kral Zera. I suggest you spend at least two quintets at the base training before then. I can send a pod in a few vargas.” 

“Thank you,” Keith said. A few vargas was soon. It meant less time to question his decision and stress over how to tell the others, at least. 

The screen went blank, and Keith stared at his reflection in it for a moment. He had to remind himself it was for the best. Walking out, he was only half surprised to see Lance leaning against the opposite wall. Lance perked up at Keith’s presence, and uncrossed his arms. 

“Everything okay?” Lance asked.

“Yeah,” Keith said. 

Lance stretched a bit. “So Allura said we have some downtime while she, Shiro, and Lotor discuss Kral whatever. Did you wanna go to the pool or something?” 

“I need to pack, actually,” Keith said. 

“Pack?” Lance let out a nervous laugh. “For the pool?” 

Keith chewed on his lip. “Kolivan is going to send a pod in a few vargas.”

“A pod,” Lance repeated. 

“I…I’m going to be training with the Blades for a while,” Keith said. 

Lance sucked in a breath. “Are you kidding me?” 

Keith frowned. He had expected shouting maybe, or a tense silence, but Lance’s cool gaze was somehow worse than both combined. “Lance, it won’t be forever.” 

“Well how long then?”

Keith was silent. 

Lance huffed. “Of course. Why did I think you’d ever plan that far in advance?” 

Keith scowled, drawing in on himself. “It’s the best option! Look, you guys have extra help with Lotor and his generals here. Now’s the best timing.”

“We don’t even know if Lotor’s a good guy!” Lance protested. 

“No, but Allura’s giving him a chance,” Keith said. “So we’re going to have to put up with him either way.” 

“So you’re just going to leave Red? Who’s supposed to fly him now?”

“…You?” Keith ventured. 

“I’m perfectly happy with Blue, thank you very much,” Lance said, and Keith felt a melancholic twinge of deja vu. “I’m not taking your Lion from you, Keith.” 

“You wouldn’t be,” Keith said. “I’m giving him to you.”

“Christ,” Lance said, holding his forehead. He shot Keith a weary look. “And what if I don’t accept?”

“Then…I guess Allura could try to fly him,” Keith said. 

Lance sighed. “Unlikely, seeing that he’s practically as stubborn as you are. What are we supposed to do if we’re out a Lion? We can’t form Voltron like that.”

“You won’t be,” Keith promised. “Red wouldn’t do that to the team. He may be stubborn, but he wouldn’t let that cripple Voltron. I’m sure he’ll let you in if you push enough.” 

“There’s a reason you took over the Black Lion when Shiro disappeared in the other timeline,” Lance said. “Everyone on the team knows you’re essential to Voltron, except you apparently.”

“I’m not saying that I’m not fit to be in Voltron,” Keith said. “But I may as well allocate time to the Blades if it means Allura can fly a Lion in the meantime. It makes _sense_. We’re utilizing as many forces as we can.”

“Or maybe this isn’t about where your time would be “worth” the most,” Lance shot back. “Christ, Keith. You act like all you’re good for is flying and fighting.”

“Maybe that’s all I’m good at!”

Lance blinked. “…It’s not.”

Keith looked away and crossed his arms. He could feel the harsh, scared drum of his heartbeat against his forearms. “Whatever. This is war. Those are what’s important.”

“So are friends,” Lance said softly. He glanced at Keith. “And…partners. Sometimes it feels like you just wanted to find Slav because you figured we’d stop seeing use for you, and then you could just leave without feeling bad. You know we don’t just see you as a means to an end, right? I mean, I’d want you to stay even if you didn’t know the future. Even if you weren’t good at flying or fighting.”

Keith looked down at his feet. He hated arguing with Lance. “Lance, I don’t know everything. I saw some of the future, but there’s still so much I don’t know. I…I need to know about my past. The Blades are my only connection to it outside of my knife.”

Lance sucked in a breath. “That…that’s fair. Quiznak. I wish this didn’t have to happen now.”

“Is there ever a perfect time?” Keith pointed out. 

“I don’t know,” Lance said, tone frustrated. Keith looked over, worried, but Lance seemed to be having an internal argument rather than one directed at Keith. “I just. I thought. I thought you were done leaving.”

Keith’s stomach tightened. “I’ll be back.” 

“I know,” Lance said, his words almost too quiet to hear. “But how am I supposed to tell my heart that?” He curled his fingers in his shirt’s fabric, twisting it. “How do I know you’re okay when we’re so far apart?” 

Keith flinched. “I…I’m sure Pidge could build us some sort of communicator.” 

Lance sighed and dropped his hand. “You’re really set on this, huh.”

“Yes,” Keith said softly. 

“Right,” Lance said and gave a sharp nod. “Right. I…I’ll always support you, Keith.” 

Keith lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Lance. Resting his nose against Lance’s shoulder, he let out a slow breath. Lance immediately returned the hug, dragging a hand through Keith’s hair. 

“I’m going to miss this dumb mullet,” Lance said. 

Keith huffed a laugh and inched his fingers toward the nape of Lance’s neck. “You know, your hair is starting to get pretty long…”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Lance warned. He pulled back and rested his hands on Keith’s shoulders, studying him. There was a sudden drop in Lance’s confidence, a waver in his stance. “Does this mean…”

“Does this mean what?” Keith asked. 

Lance flinched a bit. “Do you still?”

“Lance, finish your sentences,” Keith said, annoyed. 

Lance sighed and looked down. “Do you still…want to be boyfriends?” 

“O—Of course!” Keith said. “Do _you_?” 

“Of course!” Lance said back as he raised his head, his cheeks flushed. “I just didn’t know if you wanted to be single for your coming of age life chapter or whatever.” 

“Coming of age?” Keith smiled. “Lance, I’ll be gone a few months at most.”

“That’s plenty of time to come of age!” Lance insisted. 

“I’ll do that when I get back,” Keith said. “With you.” 

Lance smiled gently. He pulled Keith into another hug. “You really think Red will let me in?” 

“I know he will,” Keith said. “He’s seen you how I do, and that’s more than enough proof.” 

Lance squeezed him tight. “You should probably tell the others soon.”

“Right,” Keith said and stepped out of the hug. Lance looked disappointed about it, and Keith tried not to let that whittle away at his resolve. He held out his hand. “Come with me?”

“Always,” Lance said. 

 

~

 

“So wait, you’re leaving _today_?” Hunk asked. 

Keith nodded. “In a varga or so.”

Everyone looked nervously to Lance, who pointedly kept his eyes on Keith, his jaw tensed. Lotor’s generals stood off to the side, seemingly uninterested in the conversation. Keith could tell they were listening, though, by the way their bodies were positioned just so to better hear everything. 

“If you’re sure about this,” Shiro said. 

“I am,” Keith said. “I’ll be in contact with you guys, and I’ll be there at Kral Zera.” 

“What about Voltron?” Pidge asked. “Who’s going to fly the Red Lion?” 

“Lance or Allura can,” Keith said, wondering if they had all forgotten his mind meld memories. 

“Oh,” Allura said, taken aback. “I…I suppose I can pilot if I must.” 

“Princess,” Lotor began. Keith hated his voice sometimes. The sometimes being almost always. 

“Nope,” Lance interrupted. “No way. There’s no way we’d trust _you_ with a Lion. You’re lucky we’re even letting you on the Castle ship.” 

“As much as I hate to say it, Lance is right,” Allura said. She gave Lotor a half sympathetic look. “We cannot risk changing pilots that much.” She turned to Keith. “I will fly whichever Lion necessary.” 

“Thank you, Allura,” Keith said. 

She stepped forward and hugged him gently., “I have faith in you, Keith. Do us all proud.” 

“I’ll be right back,” Lance mumbled and slipped out of the room. Keith frowned and went to question the decision but he was interrupted by the others crowding toward him. 

“I want in on the hug!” Pidge said and launched herself at Keith. Almost immediately, the others shuffled forward and also wrapped their arms around him. Keith closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in their company. 

Hunk pulled back. “We’re gonna miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you, too,” Keith said. He had missed them even before they properly knew him, when he was no more than a mere rank at the Garrison to them. 

“Remember that you’re always welcomed back,” Shiro said. “And if you need anything, we’re just a call away.”

“Shiro, I know,” Keith said. “And thank you. I’ll be seeing everyone in a few days, anyway.” 

“Are you going to be back at the Castle ship after the mission?” Pidge asked. 

“I don’t know yet,” Keith said. “Maybe for debriefing. I’ll have a more definite answer once Kolivan finishes detailing the mission, which shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“Are you going to take your armor with you?” Hunk asked. “Is Lance going to have to wear it?” 

“I’m leaving it here,” Keith said, perplexed by the wave of questions. “Uh, I guess Lance can wear it if he wants? As long as he doesn’t break anything.” 

“We’ll leave it for you to come back to,” Shiro promised. Keith smiled. 

Lance entered back into the room, one hand shoved into his pocket. 

“We’ll let you and _Lance_ say goodbye,” Hunk said. 

“Yeah,” Pidge added with a wide grin. “I bet he’s been waiting to get you all alone.” 

Lance flushed a strong pink as he stopped next to Keith. “You guys are the _worst._ ” 

Keith just reached for his hand and entwined their fingers instead of responding. Lance shot him a small smile as they broke off from the group and headed toward the door. 

“So, were you actually going to pack anything?” Lance asked, only once they were in the hall and away from the others’ ears. 

“Maybe?” Keith said. They reached his room and he let the two of them inside. Keith surveyed his room; there wasn’t much he had in his room, and even less he actually wanted to take with him. “I want to bring my knife at least. Oh.”

“Oh?”

Keith held his bayard out to Lance. “You’ll need this.” 

Lance frowned. “Guess I will.” 

“It’ll be okay,” Keith said, and he suddenly felt like Shiro. He wondered if Shiro actually believed himself when he spoke those words. “I believe in you.”

Lance silently took the bayard. After a moment, he set it on the bed and took off his jacket. 

Keith watched him, confused. “What are you doing?” 

“Here,” Lance said as he shoved the bundled jacket toward Keith, forcing him to hold it. “Take it with you.” 

“But what if you get cold—”

“Please,” Lance said quietly. “I want you to have it.” 

Keith swallowed and nodded. He placed the jacket on his bed before removing his own, handing it to Lance. “I guess it’s only fair.” 

Lance offered a sad smile as he accepted it. Keith picked Lance’s jacket back up and slid it on, his fingers bunching up where the zipper met hood. It was a little long, or maybe his perception was just biased due to his own, cropped jacket. He glanced up from the jacket to look at Lance, who was wearing a pained expression, watching Keith as though the two of them were miles apart, separated onto two different planets with no means of bridging the gap. 

“It looks good on you,” Lance offered before Keith could say anything. 

“It smells like you,” Keith noted. He didn’t know how to describe the scent beyond Lance, but it was nice. Maybe it was his face mask, or some weird Alien soap, or maybe it was just _Lance._ Keith suppressed a shiver. “I like it.” 

Lance’s throat bobbed. With shaky hands, he slipped on Keith’s jacket. Keith couldn’t help himself as a startled laugh escaped him; his jacket looked a bit ridiculous on Lance. 

“Hey, don’t laugh,” Lance said. “This ugly jacket happens to belong to someone very special to me.” 

“Does it now,” Keith said, his lips quirking up. He hated a little how his heart jumped at Lance’s description of him. 

“Very special,” Lance repeated, and his voice cracked at the end. He flinched and Keith frowned. “Can…Can I…” With a frustrated sigh, Lance gave up and held out his arms, hopeful. 

Wordlessly, Keith closed the gap and wrapped his arms around Lance’s back. It felt odd hugging his own jacket. He wasn’t sure why Lance was suddenly so shy, either, going as far to dance around the request for a hug. Lance _always_ invaded personal space; it was his thing. But it wasn’t so much an invasion as it was a welcomed contact. Keith was used to watching him hang on Hunk’s shoulder or lean his arm on Pidge’s head, was even beginning to feel accustomed to Lance draping himself over Keith in every which way, to enduring frequent hugs and wandering hands and even beginning to let himself enjoy it. And he liked the state of where things were; he liked not having to predominantly initiate contact, because Lance was so much better at it and Keith was so used to solitude that the urge to seek out the contact was no longer instinctual, never as smooth as Lance’s movements that seemed to engulf him in a wave of comfort. 

And maybe Lance’s hesitation fostered the budding unease deep within the trenches of Keith’s heart, gave him his first glimpse into their time apart that he didn’t want. The potentiality for Keith to return and Lance to have moved on, even with his insistence of wanting to remain boyfriends. Keith clung to him harder, as though the hug’s strength had the power to change the future. 

“If anything happens to you,” Lance started, voice wavering but honest. “I’m going to kick your stupid butt straight back into the Red Lion.” 

“Noted,” Keith said. “Lance, I…”

Lance pulled back slightly so they could look at each other. “Yeah?”

Keith shook his head. “Take care of Red for me.” 

“I will,” Lance said. “Take care of yourself. For me. Keep in contact. When you can.” 

“Of course,” Keith said. He hated goodbyes, and he hated how desperately his heart clung to familiarity, tethered itself to Shiro and Lance and everyone else and could hardly handle the thought of letting go. Of willingly leaving. 

“You know,” Lance said. “Our long distance relationship officially trumps anyone else’s. Like, ooh, my boyfriend lives fifteen hundred miles away? Try fifteen hundred _light years._ ” 

Keith smiled. “Guess that means we win.” 

Lance’s shoulders slumped a bit. “Yeah. Not exactly the contest I wanted to win, but it’s something.” 

“It’s something,” Keith agreed. “And it won’t be forever.” 

The door slid open and Allura took a hesitant step in. She offered an apologetic look at the intrusion. “The pod has arrived.” 

Lance drew back from Keith.

“I’ll be there in a moment, Allura,” Keith said.

She nodded and took another step. She grabbed both of Keith’s hands in her own. “You will always be a Paladin of Voltron. No one can take that from you. Thank you for everything you have done to help us.”

Keith felt his face soften. “My pleasure.”

Allura smiled and took her leave.

“Guess this is it,” Lance said.

“For now,” Keith said. “Walk me to the pod?”

Lance laughed and grabbed Keith’s closest hand. Keith was relieved to see Kolivan wasn’t present, because it meant Lance wasn’t afraid to give him another hug and kiss. 

“See you soon, Samurai,” Lance whispered.

Keith kissed him instead of responding and stepped into the pod. He gave a short wave and the door shut.

Alone. 

Momentarily, he felt as though he was back in his bed at the Garrison where all of this started, a scene so dark and empty that it rivaled the ambience of space. He shoved his hands in Lance’s jacket pockets. His fingers bumped into something smooth. Frowning, Keith fished it out; had Lance forgotten to empty his pockets?

A small folded paper sat in his hand. It was maybe the size of a gum wrapper. Keith unfolded it. In Lance’s messy blue scrawl, there were the words “ _Come back to me_ ”. Keith smiled, gently folding the paper back up and pocketing it for safekeeping.

That was the plan. 


End file.
